


Unintended Consequences

by Lakritzwolf



Series: Unintended Consequences [1]
Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Family Drama, Family Feels, Gen, Post-Season 03 AU, non-canonical child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:51:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 86,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4810382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakritzwolf/pseuds/Lakritzwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <img/><br/></p>
</div>Anders's past comes back to haunt him in the form of a letter from the Ministry of Justice.<br/>It turns out that one of his past flings has had some unintended consequences.<br/>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FiliKiliThorinForever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiliKiliThorinForever/gifts).



The day that Anders’s world got unhinged had started like any other Monday. Peeling himself out of the bed, combating the hangover, the usual morning routine. Getting ready, getting dressed, feeding the fish.  
Entering the office with a cheerful Good Morning for Dawn. 

Dawn, however, wasn’t very cheerful.

“Something wrong?”  
“Just got through the post,” Dawn said as she handed him a stack of envelopes. 

Anders leafed through the envelopes and could see nothing out of the ordinary, but when he looked up at Dawn she was holding another envelope out to him. It was large, and Anders felt something tingle down his spine when he saw the logo of the Ministry of Justice.

“Fuck,” was all he could think of.   
“For once, I wholeheartedly agree, because that’s exactly what I was thinking when I saw that.”

Anders slowly walked towards his desk and sat down, dropping the letters there while he kept staring at the large and ominous white envelope. He slowly rubbed his hand across his upper lip as he leaned back in his chair. 

Someone was filing a lawsuit against him? But why? Anders felt his skin crawl when he thought back to last weekend and the admittedly crazy night he’d spent in the Black Jack. Because if this was about his recreational habits, then he was in deep shit. 

Maybe he should have made a few more adjustments to his life after losing Bragi and his powers. Maybe he should have relied less on his ability to talk himself out of any mess from the beginning. Maybe... Fucking maybe. 

Anders swivelled back and forth in his chair, still staring at the envelope on his desk. 

“Dawn,” he said after a moment.  
“Yes,” was the somewhat curt reply.  
“Did you ever worry about losing your job?”  
“Not until this morning I didn’t.”

Anders pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Do you believe me when I promise you a proper indemnity to tide you over until you find something else?”  
“You’d better.” She was aggressively shuffling through some papers.  
“Dawn, whatever this is... I didn’t do it on purpose.”  
“Of course you didn’t,” Dawn gave back sharply. “But if there was anyone who fit the bill of being prone to careless, risky behaviour then its’ you, Anders.” She rather forcefully closed a folder.

Anders closed his eyes, still swivelling back and forth in his office chair that was, most likely, not going to be his for much longer. But maybe, because it was a first offence, he’d have a chance of getting out of this with a fine. He reached out for the envelope with a somewhat timorous sigh and realised his fingers were trembling.

“Dawn,” he said, his voice as unsteady as his hands.  
Dawn finally looked up at the sound of that voice. She could see the trembling hand hovering above the envelope, and she also noticed the absence of colour in his face. She shook her head with a sigh. “Yes?”   
“Can I trouble you for a coffee?”

Dawn wordlessly got up and made two coffees instead of one. But when she put one down on Anders’s desk she looked down at the envelope he still hadn’t opened. Then she looked at Anders’s face, and the look in her eyes softened.

“Anders,” she said gently. “It’s not going to go away of you don’t open it.”  
“I’m fucking scared, Dawn,” Anders blurted out, his voice sounding timid like a child’s.  
Dawn put a hand on his shoulder. “I can see that. Do you want me to open it?”  
“Please,” Anders said meekly and reached for the cup. 

Dawn took the envelope and noticed that drops of coffee were spilling over the rim of the cup and trickled over Anders’s fingers. He didn’t seem to notice.   
With a sigh, she took the letter opener and as she put it down, she took a very deep breath to steady herself before pulling out the papers.

There was a very long moment of silence.

Anders hunched his shoulders and closed his eyes.

Dawn mutely leafed through the papers.

“Dawn?” Anders finally dared to ask.

“Well.” Dawn took another breath and slowly put the papers down in front of Anders. “This shouldn’t come entirely unexpected now, should it?”  
“Probably not, whatever it is.” Anders still hadn’t looked at the letter; he was just staring at the Ministry of Justice logo in the upper left corner. 

“Anders,” Dawn said after a moment. 

Anders sighed and put his cup down, his hand shaking so badly that he almost lost his grip. Then he closed his eyes, braced himself with a deep breath, and opened them again to look at the letter.

For a moment, the world stopped.

“Shit,” Anders whispered tonelessly.

Dawn put a hand on his shoulder.

“Fuck.” He planted his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. 

Dawn increased the pressure of her fingers. “I guess there’s no use in pretending it could be a mistake.”  
Anders emitted a shaky, mirthless little chuckle. 

“I’ll go and make some more coffee, then.” With one last gentle squeeze, Dawn let go of Anders’s shoulder and left him. 

Anders shook his head, dropped his hands, and stared down at the paper, willing it to vanish. To turn into something else. For the earth to open up and swallow him whole.  
Fuck, a court order for drug possession suddenly seemed preferable. Anything seemed preferable to this. 

And apart from any other consequences this would have, Mike would bite his head off – not that it was any of his business. But he’d never, ever hear the end of this.

Hands still trembling, Anders picked up the paper with one hand and rubbed the other across his chin as he stared at the letters. 

“Fucking, fucking hell.”

It was a Paternity Order.


	2. Chapter 2

For the rest of the day, Anders kept himself afloat with either forcing the issue out of his mind – with very meagre success – or trying to convince himself that it might come out negative. Dawn didn’t mention it again either, but he noticed that she was casting a few speculative looks into his direction every now and then.

It was when he came home that he allowed himself a brief moment of panic, but he managed to calm down somewhat with convincing himself that the only reason why a woman would want him to acknowledge fatherhood was to get him to pay child support. And of course he would do that. He wouldn’t even think of trying to weasel out of it.

Trying to get at least physically more comfortable he took a long, hot shower and then made himself an egg and bacon sandwich. Equipped with that and a beer he sat down at the table and had a look at the papers again, looking for the name of the mother, something that had slipped his mind earlier.

April Jennings. The name did ring a bell. And the more he thought about it, the clearer the picture became. A brunet, brown eyes, full lips... yes, she had even been more than a one-night stand. But how long had it lasted in actual fact? If he remembered correctly, it had been about two weeks. Practically interminable for him.

He felt a smile creep onto his face when he thought back. Those had been two very interesting weeks, admittedly, and there had been a lot of sex, and...

The smile turned into a frown. 

“You little bitch,” he muttered as he stared at the papers. “You used me as a sperm donor.”

But there was something else tugging at his mind, something that demanded attention, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. He took another bite of his sandwich and had another sip of beer. That was when it hit him.

April Jennings had been five years ago.

Anders put the paper down and leaned back, the frown deepening. So maybe he had been used like a stud for breeding. He should probably feel flattered, but somehow, he felt more humiliated than anything else. But even though, why would she get in touch now, after five years? It had to be money. Anders honestly couldn’t imagine anything else.

So he would show up to have a sample taken, would wait for the result, and if it would indeed turn out positive, he’d settle the paperwork and readjust his budgeting. It wasn’t as if he would have to scrimp and save for that. Business was good, his income was stable, and he had put enough aside that paying child support for a kid who lived god knows where wouldn’t put a dent in his finances. 

A kid who lived god knows where. Somewhere in Wellington, to be precise. Anders cast a glance at the papers as he took another bite of his sandwich. Well, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about having to deal with a kid all of a sudden. Honestly, no one would even think about sending a five year old to spend weekends with his father if the father had never met said kid and on top of everything, happened to be Anders Johnson. 

And honestly, father was maybe putting it a bit strong. He’d been unwitting sperm donor; he wasn’t in any way father material and he’d be the first to admit it. 

So all in all, the administrative bit wouldn’t really be a problem; a nuisance maybe, an inconvenience, but not really a problem. The real problem were his brothers. He didn’t even want to imagine what Mike would have to say to this.

And it wasn’t as if he had not taken proper precautions every time. Not wanting to rely on a woman’s affirmation of being on the pill, or whatever else there was, he’d always insisted on using condoms, and not only because of unwanted pregnancies. Maybe he didn’t have much of a conscience or many scruples, but he wasn’t stupid and STDs were not something to take lightly. He had to learn that one the hard way and didn’t like to think about it. 

That begged the question what had gone wrong during those two weeks with April. Had they stopped using rubbers after some time because she had him convinced she was on the pill? He honestly couldn’t remember. Had it been an accident? Or had the little snitch even manipulated the condoms? Again, he most likely wouldn’t get an answer to that, so it was a moot point to rack his brain about it. The fact remained that now he had an Order of Paternity and would have to go and have a sample taken. 

And until he had a positive result, he would keep his mouth completely shut. At least he could be sure of Dawn’s discretion in the matter. She was extremely professional and this wasn’t the first time she had found him in a somewhat compromising situation.

Anders leaned back with another sigh and looked at his empty plate, but then decided he wasn’t hungry anymore. He finished his beer and after an hour of listlessly watching TV he went to bed, but he didn’t really sleep that night. His mind refused to let the matter rest, hopping back and forth between the why and the how and what would happen if someone insisted he would have to spend some father time with his offspring. The image of him sitting in a café with a five year old who was shovelling ice cream into her face while blathering on about her new socks and her dolls made his skin crawl.

* * *

Since Anders didn’t want to prolong the matter in any way he arranged an appointment for the swab first thing the next morning. Dawn didn’t mention the issue anymore, and Anders managed to keep the amount of time his mind was drifting towards the matter to a minimum. He focussed on the administrative part, filling the forms and calculating sums after checking information about it on the web. He kept himself as busy as he could for the next days while he waited for the result. 

But when the result finally came in, he found himself in the same trepidation as he had been when the letter of the Ministry of Justice had arrived. He cast an inconspicuous glance at Dawn, but she was focussing on her screen and was busily making notes.

Anders took a deep breath and opened the envelope.

“Dawn, can I have another coffee please?”

Dawn must have caught the tone of his voice because she gave him a very worried look as she put the cup onto his desk. 

Anders leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand across his upper lip. Not that it came as a surprise, but it still felt like a blow, somehow.   
So here it was, black on white: He was now officially the father of a five year old kid who lived somewhere in Wellington.

“Fuck,” he said, because he really couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I guess that is the result of the test,” Dawn said with more than a little compassion in her voice.  
Anders nodded.   
“And by your face I can assume it isn’t the result that you have been hoping for.”  
“Fuck, no.”  
“And... I mean, I know it’s not really my business, but what happens now?”  
“Fuck if I know. I guess I fill in all the forms so I can go about paying child support, and hopefully that’s the end to it.”

He could hear the tension in the silence that followed these words.

“What?” He finally looked up at Dawn. “You don’t honestly think I’m all into that being a father business? You know me, Dawn. I’m hardly father material, and no kid deserves to be forced to spend time with me.”  
“You know, you’re probably right,” Dawn replied. “But... I mean... is paying child support really the only thing you think about?”  
Anders narrowed his eyes. “And what do you mean with that?”  
“Well...” Dawn shrugged. “I mean that... there is a child that is yours. No matter if you’re father material or not, you _are_ a father. You have a child somewhere. Your child. Doesn’t that make you feel something?”  
“Would you be surprised if I say no?”  
“No, not really,” Dawn replied after a sigh. “But still...”  
“Dawn, please. Not everyone is as keen on kids as you and Ty. I’m sorry if I make you jealous now, I know you’ve been trying for some time now. It’s not fair, I know. And sorry for making you angry, because I can see that in your lovely eyes. No, I don’t feel anything, really. I mean, I don’t even know her name.”  
“And you... you don’t want to?”  
“Can’t say I do.”

Dawn shook her head, but let the matter rest. Clearly, she and Anders would never even remotely come to some sort of understanding with this, so they silently agreed to disagree – something they were very good at – and each of them went back to their work.

No, he hadn’t been lying. He didn’t feel anything, and he didn’t even feel the need to know her name, if it really was a girl, come to think of it. Not that it mattered much. In actual fact, it didn’t matter at all to him. And while he knew he was being rather heartless, he couldn’t really do anything about it. He made a point of thinking long and hard about it, trying to find a feeling, but there was only a mild annoyance at having been used like that, and a slight fear of someone deciding that he should be a part of that poor kid’s upbringing. He really hoped that wouldn’t happen.

That night, when he was lying in bed, he wondered if he should let his brothers in on this. He’d rather not, but there was the slight chance that at one point he would really have to personally deal with the kid, and to deal with his brothers on top of everything else in that situation would be a bit much. But then, maybe he could keep this under the radar until then. 

His thoughts kept turning back to April over and over again. Not because he still had any feelings for her, but he tried to pinpoint something that should have given him a lead. In the end, he had to give up. It was too long ago to remember any details, and maybe he had wronged her in accusing her of having done it on purpose. Maybe it had been an accident, and she had decided to go along with it, and all in the knowledge that she need not expect any kind of support from him. Well, that wasn’t really true, was it? He would have done his financial duty without a fuss... if mostly to keep her and the kid out of his hair. But she had had no way of knowing that, of course.

But it wasn’t as if they had had a bad break-up. They had just decided, in unanimity, that things were over, had had a last round of farewell sex that admittedly had been a bit stale already, and had parted ways.

There had been no hard feelings, no anger and no regrets. So why hadn’t she at least made an attempt?

Anders turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling. This was more than pointless, and despite that, he couldn’t stop it.

Maybe she hadn’t been sure who the father was. Maybe she had wanted to spare herself the humiliation of calling in four or five guys or however many to establish which one of them it was. And maybe she was in a tight spot now and had no choice but find the father because she needed the money. 

He briefly wondered if he would ever ask her about her motivation or if it had been an accident should he ever meet her again. But then, he wasn’t sure he would like the answer. 

He was just about to fall asleep when his stupid brain suddenly opened a door to a totally different set of memories. His parents, crooning and cooing at the new baby while he was standing next to the sofa, disregarded and forgotten. His mother’s impassive face as his father called him all sorts of names before slapping his face repeatedly.

Great, exactly what he needed right now. More issues.

He flipped over onto his stomach with a groan. “Fuck off,” he said to Johan. “I sure as fuck would’ve been better off without you. Asshole.”

Johan’s derisive grin followed him into his dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

Dawn had never spoken about it again and neither had he. With the paperwork settled and signed, Anders had suppressed any thoughts about the matter of Wellington and any of its inhabitants and hoped that he’d heard the last of it. 

It was three weeks after the last bits of paperwork had been settled, during mid-morning of a hitherto boring and uneventful Wednesday, that his phone rang. Anders picked up.

“Yes.” He shifted the phone into his other hand and picked up a pencil. “Speaking.”

Dawn looked up when she noticed the somewhat strained silence. 

“Look, I don’t quite understand...” 

He looked up at Dawn, and she could see him look slightly cornered.

“What... pardon me, what do you mean with that?”

He started toying frantically with his pencil.

“No, I didn’t... look, I really...”

Dawn slowly got up to make another coffee. When Anders sounded like that during a phone call, it didn’t bode well for the rest of the day.

“No, I haven’t. Not the slightest bit.” Then he snorted. “Excuse me? This isn’t... What do you expect me to do then? I didn’t even know he or she existed until a few weeks ago! What? No... All right, but still...”

Dawn shook her head and added some more sugar to Anders’s coffee that was already strong enough to dissolve the spoon. She peeked around the corner towards his desk to see Anders sit somewhat slumped, head in one hand and phone in the other, while he was listening with widening eyes to whatever the caller was saying. His lips were moving silently.

Cups in her hand, Dawn waited for the call to end, and then put the coffee down in front of him. She had added a dash of cold water to it, as usual when Anders looked stressed like this. He gulped the coffee down – the reason why Dawn added cold water – and leaned back in his chair with a groan, dragging both hands down his face.

“Dawn,” he said after a moment, sounding terribly tired all of a sudden.  
“Yes?”  
“I need you to book a flight for me to Wellington.”  
“Oh.” Dawn went back to her desk. “Childcare authorities?”  
“I didn’t know you were a clairvoyant,” he snapped.  
“I’m not?” Dawn snapped back. “Then why do I know when to put cold water into your coffee so you can just pour it down your throat because you’re too stressed to wait for it to cool?”

Anders dropped his hands and actually looked contrite. “Sorry...” He muttered. “And thanks.”  
Dawn’s facial expression softened a bit. “You are most welcome.”  
“Dawn, what the fuck am I going to do now?”  
“I guess you pack your things and go to Wellington to get it over with? What did they want, anyway?”  
“Apparently there should have been a private letter from April with all those papers, only there wasn’t. And apparently in that letter she had asked me to come see her in Wellington. The guy who just called is the social worker on the case and he found the letter. So apparently number three, I need to go there and have a conversation with her about legal guardianship.”  
“About what?”

Anders looked at her. “Fuck if I know! And fuck if I know what they’re thinking! They can’t just expect me to fly along with this! No one ever told me, not even April had seen it fit to inform me of the existence of any offspring, and suddenly they want to thrust that kid into my life without even asking my opinion about it? Like fuck I do! I’ll go down there and listen to whatever he has to say and sweet fuck all!”  
“Look, I can understand you’re upset right now...”  
“Upset?” Anders’s voice was suddenly dangerously calm. “Upset? Damn fucking right I am upset! Who does she fucking think she is? She really expects she can pull a stunt like that on me and then have me welcome the consequences of that with open arms?”  
“I am sure she has a reason for all of this...” Dawn began calmly.

“I don’t fucking care about her reasons!” Anders got up and grabbed his jacket, phone and keys. “Just... fuck! This is getting totally out of hand! And now I have to let my brothers in on this because otherwise it’s going to be even more of a nightmare if she ever shows up here! Fuck!”

With that, he stormed past her and out of the office, the door slamming shut behind him. Dawn shook her head with a deep sigh before turning her attention back to her screen to book a flight to Wellington.

* * *

“You want more drinks, they’re in the fridge.” Hands in his pockets, Anders leaned against the kitchen counter, the beer forgotten next to him, while three brothers and one grandpa-née-cousin stared at him in silence. 

“Anders, Anders, Anders...” Olaf finally said into the silence.

“Fuck off,” Anders muttered without taking his eyes off the floor.  
“Anders, Anders, Anders.” Olaf got up and walked towards him to drape an arm around his shoulders. “You really shouldn’t let it get at you that much.”  
Anders looked up at him. “That’s fucking easy for you to say, grandpa. You’ve been getting girls pregnant for decades.”

Olaf chuckled and stepped back, placing both hands on Anders’s shoulders. “Oh, I have. But never have I been asked to take legal guardianship and have a part in my child’s upbringing.” He sighed and shook his head with a benevolent smile. “I am so proud of you, Anders.”  
“Fuck off!” Anders violently shoved Olaf’s arms off his shoulders and pushed him away. “Get the fuck out of my face!”  
“But you asked me to come here, together with all the others!”

Anders exasperatedly ran both hands through his hair as he pushed Olaf away and started pacing again. Axl, Ty and Mike looked up at him from their position on the sofa.

“Fuck that!” Anders stopped pacing and stared at them. “You know this is the most fucked up idea ever!”  
Mike crossed his arms. “Maybe it would do you good to actually have a responsibility in your life.”  
“Fuck off!” Anders almost screamed. His nerves were frazzled already and bullshit like that was the last thing he needed right now – although admittedly, he hadn’t expected anything else. “Don’t give me that, Mikkel! You fucking know I’m in no way cut out for this! There’s a reason I always took proper precautions!”

“Well,” Olaf said, still smiling. “Accidents happen.”  
“Of course do accidents fucking happen!” Anders ran his hands through his hair again, making it seriously stand on edge. “And that isn’t what I mean! You talk about responsibility?” He spun around to glare at Mike. “I take responsibility! I pay any amount of child support she wants! I send extra cash for birthday and Christmas if she wants me to! But this is still me! Why would anyone in their right mind want to have their kid anywhere in the vicinity of Anders fucking Johnson?”

“You know,” Ty said slowly. “That’s actually a pretty valid question.”  
“Thanks.” Anders dropped heavily onto the sofa next to him. “Some sanity remains in the world.” He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.  
“But Anders...” Axl shifted in his seat. “It’s family, that kid, isn’t it?”  
“So much for sanity,” Anders muttered into his hands, then dropped them and looked up at his youngest brother. “So?”  
“So yeah...” Axl shrugged. “We’re her uncles then. Or his. And Olaf is a great-grandpa.” He grinned up at Olaf who smiled broadly. “It’s... its family.”  
“Oh for fucking Christ’s sake Axl...” Anders stared at him. “Are you fucking serious? You want an innocent little kid get involved with this abysmal fuck-up of a dysfunctional family? Really?”  
“Well, Axl is right, you know.” Olaf sat down on the other sofa again between Axl and Mike. “It’s family. Blood kin.”

“Oh, someone save me,” Anders whispered and shook his head. “What is wrong with you guys? If you’re so keen on kids why don’t you go and make them yourself?” Then he froze and cast an apologetic look at Ty. “Sorry. No offence meant.”  
Ty crossed his arms but kept a neutral expression.  
“What do we know, after all?” Olaf leaned back and crossed his arms. “We have no flying clue why what’s-her-name suddenly wanted you to get involved, it could be...”  
“She’s probably in a tight spot and needs the money,” Anders interrupted him. “I can’t imagine that after five years she suddenly remembered how much she loved me because she never fucking did.”

“How do you know that?” Olaf kept on smiling. It was infuriating. “She might have, and known she didn’t stand a chance, so she arranged... this... the baby I mean, to take something of you with her...”  
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Anders jumped up again. “Can’t you take a single thing in your life seriously? Just one single fucking time?”  
“I am,” Olaf replied, his smile suddenly gone. “I am taking this very serious, Anders. I was just trying to see something positive about this situation.”  
“You can keep your positive vibes for when you get back to the beach.”  
“So what I meant is that maybe she needs help,” Olaf went on. “Not money. Help.”  
“I am sure there are enough professionals out there to help with that!”  
“Yes, and where were those professionals when Johann shaved his sons’ heads because he thought they had lice? Or when he beat the crap out of any of you?”

The silence was so heavy it was palpable. 

“And where were you?” Anders asked in a low voice. “Where were you when he did all those things?”  
“Australia,” Olaf replied with a mournful expression and a shrug. “And don’t think I don’t’ regret it. If I had known back then what he was capable of I’d never have left.”  
“And what do you mean to tell me with that?”

Olaf leaned forward. “You know I’m the first to admit that we are what you so rightly called an abysmal fuck-up of a dysfunctional family. But we are family. Maybe it’s like you say, and she just needs the money. Maybe she’s got some other problems. But maybe they’re in really deep shit down there in Wellington.”  
“Well whatever it is, it can’t be worse than getting caught up with me, and you lot.”  
“Do you know that?” Olaf tilted his head. “You don’t know what’s going on.”  
Anders narrowed his eyes. “And that’s why I’m going to Wellington to put things straight. I’m willing to pay for anything, whatever they need. But that’s it. I can’t get any more involved. I’m not father material. I wouldn’t be doing the kid a favour.”

“Probably not,” Mike said after a moment. “For once, I agree with Anders here.” He sat up. “Take the responsibility, Anders, and pay whatever they need. But that’s it. You can be the provider if you have to, but everything else, you’ll only fuck up.”  
Anders met his eyes. “And you know what, Mikkel? For once, I’m not going to gainsay anything. Axl... Olaf... I get where you coming from with family and all that. But if any of you really feel any sort of concern about the wellbeing of that kid, than the best you can do is keep it as far away from Anders Johnson as possible.”

“Uhm... Anders?”  
Anders looked up at Axl.  
“Could you... do you think you could at least take a picture?”  
Shaking his head, Anders heaved a heavy sigh. “For fuck’s sake, Axl.” Then he looked up. “I see what I can do.”


	4. Chapter 4

To say Anders was nervous during the flight to Wellington was putting it mildly. He was a mental wreck by the time he had passed checkout and retrieved his suitcase.

He had had another conversation regarding time and date of their appointment with the clerical assistant, a woman this time who told him the case had been transferred to her. Anders couldn’t say that he minded. The guy who had spoken to him the first time had sounded like he was on Speed and trying to blame for Anders for the state he was in. Okay, so he had a stressful job. That wasn’t Anders’ fault, though. 

Getting out of the taxi he was now staring at the building, adjusted his tie and looked at his phone and the mail in which he had been given the floor and room number. He sighed, adjusted his tie again, and entered the building with a heavy sense of foreboding.

He found the corridor, found the door, and after a quick glance at his watch that told him he had five minutes left, he sat down in one of the chairs lining the walls. Shortly after, a woman opened the door and smiled warmly at him. She was wearing a cheerfully red blouse and golden glasses that framed large, green eyes.

“Mr Johnson?”  
Anders got up. “Miss Lucas?”  
She held out a hand to him. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Johnson. Please come in.”

After shaking her hand – a pleasant handshake in a warm, firm grip – Anders followed her into her office. The first thing he noticed was an atrocious monster of a houseplant on the windowsill, the second an incredible chaotic array of children’s drawings on the wall opposite the desk. Thankfully, he had his back to that wall after he had sat down in the chair facing her.

“So,” Miss Lucas said and opened a green folder on her desk. “I told you I got the case from Owen Blakes, but I can inform you that by now, the papers have all come in and it all seems in order.”  
Anders simply nodded.  
“Do you have any questions?”  
“A lot. But the most important thing is: Why now? Is it about the child support? She could have had that from the beginning.”

“I understand that this is bothering you very much,” she replied with a sad smile. “Now, I know for a fact that it is not about the money, something you would have been aware of if the letter Ms Jennings had written had, in fact, reached you. I haven’t read it, I only know a rough outline of its contents.” With that, she shuffled through the papers and produced an envelope that she held out to Anders. He took it with a sceptical look.

“I leave you to it while I get us some coffee,” she said. “How do you take yours?”  
“Back, sugar, thank you,” Anders replied absentmindedly as he opened the envelope. “Thank you.”  
Miss Lucas left him and closed the door behind her.

Anders looked at the folded sheets in his hand and exhaled a long breath with puffed cheeks. Then he folded it apart.  
It looked as if it was written by someone under extreme stress or who had trouble holding a pen, the letters were askew and the words wobbling and far from written in a straight line. He took another deep breath and started reading.

_Anders,_

_I’m sorry, I know this must come as a shock to you. Believe me, I would never have burdened you with this if I had a choice._

_I know it was nothing serious with us. I knew you weren’t Mr Right. And you’re not one to settle down with one woman for any amount of time. I know that. That’s why I’m sorry to bother you with this._

_I discovered I was pregnant a few weeks after we broke up, when I was back home in Wellington. I don’t know how to explain it without making you angry. I knew you weren’t my guy for the happily ever after, but I wanted a baby. I risked it, Anders. I risked it, and I’m sorry I tricked you. But I wanted the baby, and I knew you weren’t up for this, so I never told you. I didn’t need any money, and I never wanted to bother you with this. But fate has made other plans. Fate is a fucking bitch._

_Anders, I know you’re not father material. But I also know that you have a good heart. I firmly believe that you are a good man. You’re very effective at hiding it, but I know how much you care about your brothers. Maybe my hope is stronger than my common sense right now, but I don’t have much left of either. All I can do is ask you to take care of him, because I can’t. Not anymore._

_Kevin is a good guy too, but I somehow doubt he will be able to handle him. I don’t know if you can, either, but he’s your son, not his. And maybe I’m wronging him, but I want you two to have a chance. He’s yours, and maybe you will care for him. Maybe better than I ever could. Being a mother was not how I wanted it to be, I could never really bond with him. The midwives told me it’s normal and happens often, but I was devastated. I didn’t love him as much as I wanted. I let him down. I wanted him so much, but I couldn’t love him the way he deserved. I did what I could to care for him. I can only hope that you can care for him as well, and better than I did._

_I said that I don’t have a choice but ask this of you. Fate is a bitch. I’ve got cancer, and I don’t know how much time I’ve got left. I’m an only child, and my parents are dead. I don’t have any uncles or aunts. Anders, you’re his only living blood relation now. If you can’t find it in your heart to care for him, no one will. I know Kevin cares for him, but now that I’m about to leave my baby forever, I suddenly find that I can’t trust him anymore. It’s as if my heart has decided that with me gone, Kevin won’t care anymore._

_I want Russell to be with his family. Or whatever is left of it. I beg you, please take care of my baby. He’s your son. Please, please take care of him. I have so many regrets now, but one of the greatest is that I never told you, never even offered you to have a part in this, even though I know you would probably have said no. But I should have given you a choice. I am sorry I didn’t. Because now I have to entrust my baby to someone who is a complete stranger to him. I let him down in so many ways. I am so sorry. Please forgive me. Please don’t hate him for it._

_I beg you to come and see me so we can talk. Please let me explain._

_Yours,_   
_April_

Anders lowered the paper, his hands trembling. He shook his head and closed his eyes, but the world didn’t stop spinning. 

The arrival of Miss Lucas and the coffee was perfectly timed, and he realised with dismay his hands were shaking so badly that quite a few drops of coffee ended up on the saucer before he had even taken a sip.

“I know it’s something of a shock, to be confronted with a child in that way,” Miss Lucas said after a moment. “But now you know why everything happened so sudden.”  
Anders nodded and stared into his cup. “How is she? April? Can I talk to her?”

Miss Lucas took a deep breath and Anders looked up. He saw the answer in her eyes even before she spoke.

“Mr Johnson, I’m afraid it’s too late. She died three weeks ago.”

Anders took a sip of his coffee that was technically still a bit too hot. He didn’t really notice. “And now?” He asked after putting the cup back onto the saucer, his voice a bit unsteady.  
“Now,” she replied slowly. “Now we need to decide how to proceed.”  
“And how are we going to proceed?”  
“Well.” She adjusted her glasses and picked up a pen and a stack of papers that were stapled together. “We can start with you signing these so the legal guardianship is transferred to you. And then you have to decide what to do with Russell.”  
“And what options do I have?”

“Well,” she said again. “I am fully aware that you are in no way prepared to accommodate a child in your life at this point. I’ve read your files; you’re self-employed and own a PR agency. And I am sure you don’t live in a cheerful house with an extra bedroom.”  
“Fuck no.” Anders almost slapped his hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry...”  
“It’s all right.” Her eyes twinkled. “I get to hear that word quite often, actually.”  
“So,” Anders ventured. “What else is there? If I understood correctly he’s living with his stepfather now? Can he have legal guardianship? He is his father. Well, sort of. More than I am, anyway.”

Miss Lucas sighed heavily. “April Jennings and Kevin McInnis were not married. It was decided for Russell to stay with Mr McInnis as he is the only father figure he knows, and he applied for an adoption of the boy but...” She met Anders’s eyes. “The last time a social worker visited the family home, she detected signs of neglect. We are monitoring them and if need be, we will move him into a children’s home, and from there, most likely to a foster family. And as long as you are unable to accommodate him, he will stay in foster care. Although... we would most certainly prefer if he could grow up in a stable family.”  
“Miss Lucas,” Anders said gravely and squarely met her eyes. “I am hardly a stable family. I’m afraid I have to be brutally honest: During the last five years I’ve been in more pairs of panties than fit into a wardrobe. I am not a family man, and I will never be. I can assure you, a foster home would be the better choice for him.”

“I understand,” she replied as gravely. “But I have to inform you that the boy has a right to know and associate with his biological father.”  
“Not a man like me, I’m afraid. You won’t be doing him a favour.”  
“It’s the law, Mr Johnson.”  
“All right, so it’s the law. I get that.” Anders crossed his arms. “I understand. But I still say you’re not doing him a favour.”  
“Mr Johnson, he’s your son. Can you not at least try and find some compassion?”  
“Miss Lucas, don’t get me wrong. I am not heartless. But I know what kind of a man I am, and believe me, I don’t think I’m fitting company for a five-year-old.”

She lowered her eyes and made a few notes. “So you are saying Russell should remain in foster care until further notice?”  
“I am convinced that is the best solution. For him.”  
Miss Lucas looked up sharply.   
“I am not trying to weasel out of this, Miss Lucas. But I know what I know. I am not in any kind of way father material, and the thought of having to care for a kid scares seven kinds of crap out of me. I can’t do this. I will fuck this up. I know I will fuck this up.”  
“You will forgive me if I am not happy about that answer. I’ve heard a lot of crap like that in my time here.”  
“I don’t doubt that. But honestly? I am not happy with that answer either. The only thing I can do for him is arrange for him to grow up in an environment that I will never be able to provide.”

She sighed again and shook her head. “There is just one more thing, Mr Johnson, which I would ask of you before we get down to the paperwork.”  
“And that is?”  
“I want you to meet the boy. We scheduled a meeting for him and Mr McInnis today at the same time as yours so you could meet him.”  
“Hang on a minute. He doesn’t even know I’m here right now?”  
“Oh, they do. They’re waiting one floor down. I will take you there.”  
“I guess I don’t have a choice about that?”  
“No.” Her gaze was like steel. “The least you can do is acknowledge him.”  
“Right.” Anders straightened his jacket as he got up and adjusted his tie. “After you.”

He followed her down the stairs and through another corridor, then they stopped in front of a door that looked like all other doors here. Miss Lucas gave him an encouraging smile, and opened after knocking. Adjusting his tie a final time, Anders closed his eyes for a moment and entered behind her.

There was a table and four chairs, and at one wall was a bookshelf with a lot of children’s books and comics and a few boxes with toys. But the first thing Anders consciously registered was the man sitting at the table who was looking at him with an expression that managed to convey boredom and hostility simultaneously. He wasn’t tall or bulky, or in any way imposing; in fact, he just looked like Mr Average Joe in a waiting room of a hospital or a surgery. But still, something about his presence made Anders uncomfortable. 

And then he saw the boy. And his first thought was that they could have spared themselves all the trouble with the paternity test. Looking at him, Anders felt as if he was looking at a thirty year old mirror. 

The boy, in turn, looked up at him with a completely expressionless face, clutching a plush crocodile to his chest. And as Anders met his eyes, so completely like his own, down to the shade of his eyelashes, he realised something that sent a chill down his spine.

He remembered what Miss Lucas had told him earlier. And he could see it, there in this little boy’s eyes. He had had a mother who had never really loved him, a father who had never really cared. Now his mother had abandoned him; she had left him and would never come back, and he was stuck with a man who looked as if he could not really be bothered one way or another.   
And now he was on his way into a children’s home, and from then to a foster family, and one could only hope that he could stay in one place then. 

Anders saw it, there in those blue eyes so exactly like his own: He was looking at a soul who had been abandoned, let down by everyone who was supposed to care for him and care about him. 

He remembered his own mothers’ indifferent eyes. His father’s harsh words and humiliating insults. The sharp sting of a slap across his face. 

Anders looked at the boy and the boy looked back at him with resignation and hopelessness and even a trace of fear in his eyes, very clearly expecting him to not care about him, either. To abandon him to whatever fate awaited him. To be tossed around from children’s home to foster family and dependent on people who only cared for him because they had to.

Anders looked at the boy who was his son, unable to take his eyes off the boy’s, and something was slowly pulling the ground away from under him.


	5. Chapter 5

“There’s no bones about it,” the man who was almost Russell’s stepfather said. “Absolutely no use in doubting who sired the lad.”  
Anders adjusted his tie and finally tore his eyes away from the boy. “I guess not,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face. 

“So.” Obviously unwilling to beat around the bush, McInnis crossed his arms and looked at Anders. “What you’re gonna do about this all?”  
“Since I had no idea what this was all about until less than an hour ago I am not really sure how to proceed,” Anders replied.   
“Well you can’t obviously just bundle him under your arm and drag him away.”  
Anders narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t know I was going to do that.”

McInnis now uncrossed his arms again and got up. “Look, you’re his sire, I get that. But you’re a stranger. He’s at home here. With me. I know I’ve got issues, mate. But I just lost the woman I loved. But Russell and me, we’ll figure this out. We talked about this with Owen.”  
Anders exchanged a glance with Miss Lucas who shrugged.   
“He’s the only thing I’ve got left of her now. So we’re going to stay and work this out together, won’t we, Russ?”

Anders followed his gaze to look at the boy again. But Russell just hunched his shoulders and pressed the crocodile to his chest. Then he nodded.

After exchanging another look with Miss Lucas, Anders adjusted his tie – completely aware of his nervous habit and presently seriously pissed off by it – and realised that he should probably make an attempt to talk to the boy. So he took a step towards him, not failing to notice how he hunched his shoulders, and went down into a crouch.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Anders. You’re Russell, right?”  
After a quick glance at McInnis, Russell nodded.  
“That’s a nice crocodile you got there.”  
Russell mumbled something without meeting his eyes.

Before Anders could say something along the lines of _I didn’t quite catch that_ , McInnis leaned forward and growled: “Talk clearly, for Christ’s sake!”

Anders felt something cold creep down his spine; he didn’t take his eyes off the boy who hunched even more. 

“It’s an alligator,” he said then, his voice meek and low.  
“Okay, sorry,” Anders said much more brightly than he felt. “And what’s his name?”  
“Al.”  
“Well, that sounds about right. Al the Alligator.”

Anders discovered at that moment that his conversation topics were already exhausted. Clearly, the questions of _Does he beat you up_ and _Do you need me to get you out of there_ weren’t an option. And truth to be told, Anders was sure he already knew the answer. Just to make sure, he ran his hand through his hair with a quick move of his arm, and the boy flinched ever so slightly.

So Russell was intimidated, scared, and hand-shy. Anders didn’t need any imagination to know what was going on in his home.   
_Takes one to know one_ , he thought, and felt a strange feeling of anger rise up in him. If a kid of only five years was already hand-shy he hadn’t felt the back of a hand only once. 

 

He slowly got up again and managed to resist the urge to reach for his tie. A long look at the clean-shaven and well-groomed McInnis, and Anders gave him a nod.

“Miss Lucas, can I have a word?”  
“Sure.”

Once the door had closed behind them and they had walked away from the door, she gave him a very long, knowing look.

“Miss Lucas...” Anders ran a hand through his hair. “What just happened in there?”  
“What are you referring to?” She gave back cautiously.  
“I am referring to a little boy being intimidated and hand-shy.”  
She smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile.   
“I just...” Anders rolled his shoulders.

Their eyes met, and Anders took a deep breath.

“I know what’s going on there,” he said hesitantly. 

After a very long moment of heavy silence, Miss Lucas shook her head. “I didn’t... I’m sorry, Mr Johnson, and believe me, if I had known you were a survivor of child abuse and domestic violence yourself I’d have chosen a very different approach.”  
“But still the same goal, right? To make me take him with me?”  
“The goal was to introduce you to your son, Mr Johnson. My personal hopes about any feeling of yours have nothing to do with the administrative procedures.”

Anders silently stared at her, trying to calm his racing heart. Miss Lucas looked back, her eyes soft and compassionate. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I wish all this could have happened less chaotic. Maybe if the letter hadn’t gotten lost in the files...” She shrugged somewhat helplessly.

Finally, Anders rolled his shoulders again and took another deep and heavy breath. “So what are you going to do? You’re not honestly thinking of sending him back with... that... person?”  
“Presently, we don’t have much of a choice other than holding him here and now and sending him to the children’s home we talked about.”  
“I gather that will come as a shock to him.”  
“It surely would.”

Anders found himself pace back and forth without having made a conscious decision about it. He stopped again and looked at Miss Lucas.

“Does he know who I am?”  
“We told him, yes. I am not sure, however, he fully understands the implications of you being here.”  
Anders’s world was spinning and he had to lean against the wall. He buried his face in his hands with an almost inaudible groan. “Fuck.”  
“I’m with you on that one.”

His thoughts were racing. How could all this be happening? A couple of months ago his life had been easy and straightforward. One letter and a stack of paperwork later here he was, being confronted with things he had never, ever wanted to see. Again. Least of all concerning an innocent little boy... who so just happened to be his own son.

Completely convinced he didn’t even have any kind of protective instincts other than for himself, he was now suddenly confronted with them kicking in with full force. But he couldn’t do this. He didn’t even have a place to sleep for the boy, not to mention any other space for things. 

He had absolutely no fucking clue what to do with a kid in his life. And he had absolutely no fucking desire to have one. He couldn’t do this. He didn’t want to do this.

_You’re just a useless little runt, Anders. Always have been, always will be._

_Shut the fuck up, Johan_. Still leaning against the wall, Anders dropped his hands and stared straight ahead.

“Mr Johnson? Are you all right?” Miss Lucas was at his side and took his elbow. “You better sit down for a moment. You don’t look too good.”

Anders fell into the chair she had guided him to with a groan and immediately rested his elbows on his thighs, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t do this,” he muttered, voice rough.  
She sat down beside him. “Take him with you, or leave him here?” Her voice was gentle.  
“Both.” Jesus fucking Christ, if he’d ever thought he’d been in a mess before in his life... he’d had no fucking idea what a mess was. Not a single fucking clue.

This was how the guy in Jaws must have felt like while being slowly devoured by the shark, bite for bite, vanishing between those teeth while screaming and spitting blood. Anders bit his tongue to hold back a fit of laughter that would have come out as more than slightly hysterical. Once he had forced it back down, he dropped his hands again and stared at the linoleum floor.

“What am I supposed to do now? This is all going to hell in a fucking hand basket.”  
“I suggest we start with the paperwork, to get that out of the way. And... well, I assume you will take legal guardianship now after all.”  
Anders shook his head, but more in disbelief than in denial. “I don’t know how to do this.”  
“Do you have a family, Mr Johnson? Maybe they can help you?”  
“You have no idea,” Anders said with a mirthless chuckle.  
“You’re not on the best of terms?”  
“We...” Anders broke off and stared at the wall.

_“But Anders...It’s family, that kid, isn’t it?”_   
_“So much for sanity. So?”_   
_“So yeah... We’re her uncles then. Or his. And Olaf is a great-grandpa. It’s... its family.”_   
_“Oh for fucking Christ’s sake Axl... Are you fucking serious? You want an innocent little kid get involved with this abysmal fuck-up of a dysfunctional family? Really?”_   
_“Well, Axl is right, you know. It’s family. Blood kin.”_

Family. Blood relations. What did that even mean? In the case of the Johnson clan not much more than bickering, arguments and plenty of blame passed around. 

“Our relationship is probably best described with either _I’ll help you hide the body_ or _Don’t breathe into my general direction_ and not really much in between.”  
“You’d be surprised as to how many families that actually applies.” There was an audible smile in her voice.  
Anders huffed out a heavy breath. 

Miss Lucas finally laid a hand on his arm. “I don’t want to pressure you, but I guess you feel better once we have the paperwork sorted. Should we proceed with that while we have another coffee?”  
“That...” Anders straightened up and combed his hair back with his fingers. “That sounds like a really good idea.”  
“Great.” 

She got up and Anders did so as well.

“Just... just one moment.” Anders straightened his jacket. “I just need...” He took a deep breath and entered the room again.

Russell was listlessly leafing through a children’s book and looked up with an expressionless face, and McInnis lowered his magazine and looked at him with barely concealed annoyance.

“Russ?” Anders slowly took a step towards him and crouched down again. “You see, my brother Axl, your... your uncle, he asked me if I could send him a picture. In fact, I have three brothers, so... there’s three uncles up in Auckland. Can I take a picture of you for them?”   
Russell sucked on his upper lip and looked up at his stepfather. “Kevin?”

McInnis gave Anders a dark look. Shaking his head, Anders unceremoniously sat down on the floor and started scrolling through the pictures on his phone, only to discover he didn’t have one of Axl. What he did have, however, was a picture of Ty and Dawn on their wedding day.

“Here.” He held the phone out to Russell. “That’s one of my brothers, your uncle Ty, and your auntie Dawn.”  
Russell craned his neck and stared at the screen.  
“And I don’t think...” Then he sent a quick text to Mike and simply called Axl. “Hey,” he said when Axl picked up. “Can you send me a selfie?” He rolled his eyes. “No, just... just send me that f... Oh for Christ’s sake, just do it, okay?” He ended the call and rolled his eyes again. Seconds later his phone announced an incoming message. 

“For god’s sake, Axl.” Anders covered his eyes with one hand and sighed. “There’s one in every family.” He showed Russell the picture of Axl looking cross-eyed at the camera while sticking out his tongue. “That’s your uncle Axl, and that pretty much sums him up.”

Another message came in now, and that one was a selfie of Mike, who apparently had a better sense of what was going on. He showed that to Russell as well, but refrained to request one from Olaf for now as he couldn’t make sure it was suitable for children without explaining the context to him at length. 

“So now you know what your uncles look like,” Anders said, employing all his con-man abilities to keep a bright face throughout this conversation. He could feel McInnis’s eyes boring into his back. “Can I send them a pic of you?”  
“Go ahead,” McInnis said and Anders took the picture before he changed his mind. “As long as they don’t end up on some shady website...”  
Anders was on his feet in an instant, and something inside him snapped. “And what do you mean with that?” His voice was sharper than even he himself had expected.

“Mr McInnis,” Miss Lucas fell in sharply. “I appreciate you feeling protective, but trying to shed a bad light on Mr Johnson and insulting him is not going to help your cause.”  
McInnis leaned back and crossed his arms, but he refused to take anything back.   
“Mr McInnis,” Anders began, forcing himself to keep calm. “I know I was just shoved into your and Russell’s life, but he is my son and I can assure you that just like you, I have only his best interests in mind.” He then turned to Russell and held out his hand. “I’ll see you soon, Take care, yes?”

Russell took it, but very hesitantly, his little hand resting warm and limp in Anders’s. Anders smiled, but Russell just stared back, as if he somehow had completely forgotten how to smile. 

Once outside, Anders leaned against the wall again and looked at Miss Lucas. 

“There, I said it. There’s no way back anymore now, is there?”  
She shook her head with a sad smile and a sigh.   
“Oh Jesus fucking Christ,” Anders whispered as he dragged his hands down his face. “Let’s get the paperwork sorted.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the amazing [ryuuri](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ryuuri/pseuds/ryuuri) who made this lovely piece of art for me!!

After having paced restlessly through the city for a few hours Anders had flagged down a taxi and was now back in his hotel room, trying to get his thoughts into a resemblance of order.

He couldn’t believe what he’d seen today, and he could even less believe what he’d done. 

He didn’t need a kid in his life. He didn’t want a kid in his life. He literally could not accommodate a kid in his life, not in his bachelor’s apartment with his expensive appliances and his fish tank and a box of sex toys under the bed. Not to speak of only having one bedroom. The thought of having to share his bed with a five year old was seriously giving the creeps. Apart from that, he didn’t have the slightest idea of how to handle a kid. 

A vague idea of having to do twice the amount of laundry and making lunchboxes ghosted around in his head, together with school meetings and children’s birthday parties. Christ... birthday parties? 

Anders fell onto the bed with a groan and covered his face with his hands. This wasn’t just going to hell in a hand basket. This was a nightmare. A nightmare he couldn’t wake up from... because he wasn’t asleep.

He no longer knew if it was asshole or breakfast time. He no longer knew what the term _This is my life_ meant. He no longer knew anything but this one fact: He couldn’t leave Russell here with his stepfather who scared the crap out of the boy and who had no scruples about inflicting physical pain on a five year old boy. 

Oh yes, he’d said he would work on his issues. Sure. Just like Johan had always told the social worker who had visited their home that he would seek help and nothing was as bad as it looked. Only for things to become worse than ever before. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it had been in Anders’s own childhood home. Maybe it never would get as bad. Maybe McInnis would really get a grip. 

But Anders had looked into his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t impossible, but it wasn’t likely. And as much as the thought terrified him, he couldn’t leave the boy to his fate. He just couldn’t. But what he could do with him, he had no fucking clue. 

The logical part of his mind, or what was left of it, told him he should put Russell into foster care and give him up for adoption, so he could find a loving and stable family. 

But another part of his brain, one that Anders hadn’t know he had, told him that the chances of being adopted at five years were already slim at best and it would only get worse as time progressed. And it left him with the nagging feeling that he couldn’t abandon the boy to his fate. 

The boy.

His son.

Anders was about to bash his head against the nearest wall.

He needed help. But there was no one who could help him now, and even if there was, he had no idea how to ask for it. Or whom, for that matter. No one in his family had any kids...  
With trembling hands, Anders picked up his phone and still spent about five more minutes staring at the screen. Mike would bite his head off. Yet he could think of nothing else.

 _“Anders? What the actual fuck? Do you know what time it is?”_  
“Half past ten.”  
A pause. _“Anders, are you okay? You sound...”_  
Anders couldn’t suppress a mirthless chuckle. “No, Mikkel. I’m not okay. In fact, I’m fucking freaked out so much I can’t think straight anymore.”  
 _“What the fuck is happening down there?”_

He almost couldn’t continue. This was scaring seven kinds of crap out of him. Here he was, a grown man, and he was still afraid of his older brother. 

“Mikkel...”  
 _“Anders, what the fuck is wrong with you?”_  
“The boy...” He took a deep breath. “Mikkel, I met him today.”  
 _“A boy, is it? Don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental and want to take him home._ ”

Anders shook his head and rubbed his free hand down his face. “Mike, sentimentality has nothing to do with it. He... Russell... he’s living with his stepfather. And... Jesus... Mike, he’s scared, and intimidated...”  
 _“Anders, he’s never seen you before! He wouldn’t be jumping around shoving dinos into your face with a grin.”_  
Anders had to clear his throat. “But that wouldn’t make him hand-shy either.”

He could hear Mike exhale. _“Christ, Anders... are you sure?_ ”  
“I just ran a hand through my hair and he flinched away from me.” Completely unconsciously Anders repeated the gesture. “And that man... Mikkel, he looks... I mean, he doesn’t look like Johan, but his eyes... those look like Johan’s.”  
 _“Fuck.”_

Anders fell onto his back, clinging to the phone in his hand as if it was a lifeline.

“Mike... I can’t do this. I can’t leave him here.” He was fully aware of how pathetic his voice sounded.  
 _“For fuck’s sake, Anders. You can’t be serious. You’re not honestly thinking about bringing him here? What about his mother?”_  
“I...” Anders closed his eyes. “Mike...”  
 _“Anders, get a grip._ ”

“He’s been abandoned,” Anders finally blurted out. “He’s been abandoned by a mother who never cared, and to a stepfather who doesn’t care either and beats him up. There’s no foster family available at this point and that means children’s home for fuck knows how long before they find one. He’s... he’s all alone out there, Mike. April... his mother, she wrote me a letter. She said she tricked me to get pregnant, and she told me about the troubles she had. She also told me that her parents are dead, and she was an only child and her parents...”

 _“Take a fucking breath!”_  
“Sorry,” Anders muttered tonelessly.  
 _So what about his mother? She shot through?”_  
“She’s dead. She died of cancer three weeks ago.”

Anders heard the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor.

 _“Christ, Anders, tell me you’re joking.”_  
“I’m not, Mikkel. Fuck knows I wish I was. There is no one else. I’m his last living blood relation.”  
 _“Jesus fucking Christ in a fucking bottle.”_ Mike huffed a heavy breath.  
“Mikkel, what am I going to do now?” Anders closed his eyes. “What the fuck am I supposed to do? He literally has no one else. I can’t...” He paused. “You gotta help me. I figured... well you’ve been there, in a way... I need help, Mike.”  
Mike’s voice was heavy and low. _“Bloody hell.”_

After another pause, in which Anders could do nothing but stare at the ceiling, Mike spoke again.

 _“Anders, you do know that if you take him, you’re literally ending your life as you know it?”_  
“Yeah, I do. And I have no clue what comes after. I have no fucking clue anymore about anything.”  
 _“Oh for god’s sake,”_ Mike said with a groan. _“This is seven kinds of fucked up and then some.”_  
Anders could only chuckle.  
 _“Anders, listen. Are you really sure about all that?”_  
“You... Mike, you didn’t see him. You didn’t see his eyes. You...” Anders sat up again. “Hang on.”

He ended the call, and with still trembling fingers scrolled through the images on his phone until he found the picture he had taken of Russell earlier: The boy who looked so much like Anders it was almost uncanny, looking into the camera with hunched shoulders and utterly empty eyes. He sent that to Mike, and after two minutes, he called him again.

Mike took the call, but there was a long silence before he spoke. 

_“You’re fucking kidding me.”_  
Anders didn’t reply.   
_“You’re fucking kidding me, Anders. If I wasn’t so sure of the fact that you never had a crocodile...”_  
“Alligator.”  
 _“What?”_  
“It’s an alligator.”  
 _“Whatever the fuck that is. If I wasn’t sure you never had one, I’d say that is a pic of you.”_  
“It isn’t.”  
 _“I know.”_

They both fell silent. 

“You realise why I’m freaking out.” Anders swallowed hard.  
 _“I do. Fuck, I do.”_  
“Remember what Olaf and Axl said? He’s family. And we’re the only family he’s got.”  
 _“Poor sod.”_  
“I know, right? But he’s got no one else. It’s either us or a children’s home and, if he’s lucky, a foster family at one point. More strangers who only care for him because they have to.”

 _“Anders...”_  
“Come on, just say it. Tell me off and be done with it. This isn’t about me. It’s about him. I have a son, Mike, and I somehow gotta take care of him. Only, I don’t have the slightest fucking clue how I’d do that. I mean... I don’t even have a place for him to sleep, for Christ’s sake! Mike...” Anders closed his eyes. “I know we’re all a bunch of fuck-ups who are constantly at each others’ throats. I also know I’m no good and you hate me for a reason... But now there’s this kid, and nothing of this is his fault, and...”  
 _“Anders...”_ Mike said again. _“Hold... hang on. You got your laptop?”_  
“I do, but...”  
 _“Hang on. Just hang on. I round up the others. I can’t do anything alone, you know I haven’t got any space as well and I don’t know sweet fuck all either. But...”_ Mike exhaled long and hard. _“Anders, if you’re ready for this, we think of something.”_  
“No,” Anders replied. “I’m not ready for this, and I’ll never be. I just know I can’t leave him here to go through the same shit we went through.”  
 _“I get that. Hang on, Anders.”_

Mike ended the call, and Anders fell back onto the bed again with a groan. “Shit.” His heart was racing, his hands were shaking, and his stomach was about to say goodbye to the chicken roll he’d had for dinner. “Shit!” He punched his fists into the mattress, but that made the feeling of helplessness only worse. 

After a moment, he forced his breathing to slow down, got up, and set up his laptop on the small table under the window. An hour later he was still aimlessly browsing through online sex shops without even thinking of buying anything when he got an incoming call via Skype. 

He saw all his brothers gathered around what had to be a laptop that was set up on one of the tables in Mike’s bar. Dawn was there as well, as was Olaf who was cheerfully waving at the camera.

“I really hope this is important, Mike and Anders,” Axl said. “It’s in the middle of the night and I gotta go to work tomorrow.”  
“Didn’t you tell them?” Anders asked.  
“Not much. I just wanted to make sure they all come here asap.”  
“Right. So I have to go through all that shit again I told you earlier?”  
“I’m afraid you have to.”

Anders sighed in resignation and shook his head. “Right.” He braced himself and sighed heavily. “Five years ago I had a two week relationship with a woman named April Jennings which had some unintended consequences. Now I have a son in Wellington. His name’s Russell. His mother had written a letter to me that should have been in the first stack of paperwork I got. It wasn’t. So I only got that letter when I got here.”  
“Some letter, by the look of you,” Axl said.  
“I can tell you. For one, she told me that she willingly risked getting pregnant and apologized for all this mess. Secondly...” He paused and swallowed. “Secondly she asked me to take care of the boy. And thirdly...”  
“But where is she now?” Axl narrowed his eyes.  
“Thirdly. She had cancer. She died three weeks ago.”

Dawn gasped and Ty stared open mouthed at the screen. Axl looked as if turned into stone, and Olaf shook his head over and over again.

“She also told me she was an only child, and both her parents had been too, and they’re dead as well, which means I’m his last living blood relation.”  
“Anders...” Olaf bent forward and lowered his head between Ty and Axl. “You have to bring him here. You can’t abandon him.”  
“Yeah...” Anders rolled his shoulders. “Easier said than done. That’s why...”  
“That’s why I called you here,” Mike fell in. “We have to figure something out. Anders is sure Russell’s stepfather is abusing him.”

“What?” Axl jumped up so fast he toppled over his chair. “The fuck?! He’s only... what? Five? I’ll kill him!!”  
“I’ll hold him down for you,” Ty said darkly while Axl gathered up his chair again. “But Anders... what... I mean, you can’t...”  
“I know!” Anders felt the panic from earlier return. “I fucking know I can’t! But I can’t leave him here!”  
“Obviously, you need our help,” Olaf said calmly. “So this would be the perfect opportunity to put aside any hard feelings and work together. Not for our sakes... well, maybe that too. But for the sake of an innocent boy who...”  
“Anders.” Ty leaned a little forward. “How can you be so sure he’s being abused? Maybe he’s just freaked out because his mum is dead.”

“That’s what I asked, Ty.” Mike was still off screen, but the microphone was good enough for Anders to hear him clearly. “And Anders said he’s hand-shy.”  
“He’s what?”  
“Hand-shy. And if you don’t know what that means...”  
“I know fucking well what that means!” Ty would have frozen the whole room by now if he had still been Hodr. “But I thought that was only dogs! How can a five year old...”

“Mikkel.” Anders sighed. “Did you show them the pic?”  
“No, not yet.”

Anders leaned back a little and watched as Mike produced his phone and held it out to Axl. Axl took it, and Anders could see his mouth fall open. Ty was staring at the screen with widening eyes.

“God almighty,” Dawn breathed as she leaned forward. “They could have saved themselves the trouble with the paternity test.”  
“Yeah...” Anders rolled his shoulders. “That’s what I thought.”  
“He looks so sad...” Dawn shook her head, her eyes full of sadness and compassion. “The poor boy...”  
“And you say he’s been beaten?” Axl looked up again, and he had murder in his eyes. “Seriously?”

Anders could only shrug. “I’ve seen what I’ve seen, Axl. And I know you were too young to remember, but I know what it looks like when someone’s scared of his father and expects to be beaten at every opportunity. Not to mention what it feels like.”

In the silence that followed, everyone kept staring at Mike’s phone and the picture of Anders’s son. Finally, Dawn tore her eyes away, took Ty’s arm and dragged him away from the screen and out of ear shot.

It took less than five minutes and they were back, and this time Dawn sat down and folded her arms onto the table.

“I don’t know how this all works out, but you obviously can’t leave him there. You obviously can’t take him home with you either, so...” She took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder at Ty who gave her an encouraging nod. She looked back at Anders. “Ty and I just talked. We have two spare bedrooms in the house. You two can move in with us until you have figured out the basics. We’ll be there to help and you can find somewhere to live.”

Anders felt his stomach drop. “Are you...” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Are you serious?”  
“Yes, we are,” Dawn gave back firmly. “We can see that leaving him is not an option, the poor boy has obviously been through enough and whatever other option there is...”  
“Children’s home,” Anders cut in. “And if he’s lucky, a foster family at one point.”  
“That’s not an option.” Dawn folded her arms onto the table. “He’s got family here. And we’ll figure this out. All of us together.”

Anders was about to come unglued. “Who are you, and what have you done to my family?”  
Dawn smiled gently and looked at Ty again, then at Axl and at Mike. “You need help, Anders.”  
“I know.”  
“Well then.” Dawn tilted her head with a smile. “Here we are.”  
“I can’t do this...”  
“Not alone, you can’t.”

“Anders,” Olaf now fell in. “If you are ready to put a child before everything else in your life, then we can do this.”  
“I’m not ready,” Anders replied slowly. “I never will be. But I somehow have the feeling I don’t have a choice.”  
“Then you don’t have one,” Olaf said with a calm smile. 

They made their goodbyes and Anders shut his laptop, then fell onto the bed. His life had come to an end. And there was no way back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horst Mahler just appeared out of nowhere in my head and I don’t know why, but he looks like [John Callen.](http://www1.pictures.zimbio.com/gi/John+Callen+Hobbit+Battle+Five+Armies+Premieres+-4AlIqz1vkKl.jpg)

Anders cancelled his flight back to Auckland that had been scheduled for the next morning and went back to the office building to meet with Miss Lucas again. He hadn’t slept much, and he was fully aware of the fact that by now he was running on full auto pilot fuelled by adrenaline. He had no idea how he was still able to function in an outwardly calm and composed fashion, and he was sure that a rather large part of him still hadn’t caught up with what had been happening.

Once they had settled in her office with more coffee – and Anders was very glad she was so considerate as to keep it coming – they took care of more paperwork in one hour than Anders normally dealt with in a week. At one point he had stopped reading and just skimmed the printing to find the line where he was supposed to sign.

“I hope I’m not accidentally buying a washing machine,” he muttered at one point. “I’m sure I wouldn’t notice it.”  
“Oh. Maybe I should have tried to sneak a credit card transfer into that,” Miss Lucas replied.   
Anders looked up and she winked at him. Some of the tension drew out of him and he managed to return the smile. 

All this was followed by a trip in a staff car to the city council, and after two hours of trekking from one office to another, he was now presented with a provisional passport for Russell.

Anders kept staring at it and the picture during the trip back. The paperwork was now no longer about Russell Jennings. All that, together with the passport, was now issued in the name of Russell Johnson. 

Russell Johnson. Holding the passport, Anders kept staring at the picture. _My son._

A couple of weeks ago, that word had meant nothing to him. No more than a line on a piece of paper. And now it meant something... someone... a little boy who was utterly dependent on him. On him. On Anders Johnson. That there would be a kid in this world whose life would depend on Anders Johnson made his stomach drop again. 

So maybe it wasn’t his life as such that was at stake here. And Anders would certainly have preferred never having gotten involved. But now that he had, he simply could not turn a blind eye and leave Russell to his fate, let someone destroy the boy and his happiness the way Johan had destroyed him. 

Again, he felt like bolting and hiding under a rock. But he knew that this was the one thing he would never be able to shrug off, that he would never again be able to look into a mirror for the rest of his life without seeing a pair of blue eyes look back at him that would remind him of what was, what had been, and what might be happening in some other part of the country.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Anders didn’t have a choice anymore. He knew he was in for the biggest clusterfuck of his life, and the only option he had left was to rely on his brothers and Dawn to be true to their words and be his safety net. He knew that things would turn pear-shaped at one point. The question was not _if_ but _when_ he would lose his shit and fuck it up. And if his brothers would not be there when that happened... well then he could have spared himself all this and just sent Russell to a children’s home in the first place.

The clusterfuck Anders was expecting, however, began far sooner than he could have seen it coming. There was another meeting scheduled with him, McInnis and Russell, and as soon as Anders entered the room Russell burst into tears and ran towards his stepfather to hide behind his legs.

“The fuck?” Anders asked before he could stop himself.  
“That so hard to understand, you twat? He doesn’t want to go with a stranger!”  
Anders met McInnis’s eyes. “I wasn’t going to drag him screaming and kicking with me to Auckland. What gave you the idea I would?”  
“As if...” McInnis huffed. “As if you’d ever think of anything than yourself. Your kind never does.”  
“My kind...” Anders managed just in time to resist the urge to reach for his tie. “And what would that be?”  
McInnis looked him up and down. “Pencil-pusher who never worked for a living. A slick suit who feathers his own nest and doesn’t care shit about others. Suck as much out of anyone as you can like a goddamn vampire, only it’s their money you’re sucking, not their blood.”

Looking down at himself, Anders briefly wondered if his favourite green shirt and a pair of slacks would have been the better choice, but he hadn’t even packed it, so that was a moot point. 

“You... you don’t even care for the boy!” McInnis put a protective arm around Russell who just buried his nose in the red plaid shirt. “He’s not some sort of trophy wife substitute! You only want him so I can’t have him anymore!”

Anders took a step back, completely at a loss for words. He cast a helpless look at Miss Lucas who adjusted her glasses while shaking her head. Then she stepped forward. 

“Mr McInnis,” she began. “We have had this discussion before. No one is just going to drag Russell out of his home and away from you without an advance notification, but I’m getting the impression that this is exactly what you have told him.”  
“But he’s going to!” McInnis was visibly shaking. “He’s all legal now, and he’s going to take him away from me!”

Russell clung to his leg with another sob. 

“Mr McInnis...”  
“He’s never going to be able to care for him!”  
Anders crossed his arms. “As opposed to you who beats him up?”  
“I don’t beat him!”  
Forcing his voice to remain calm, Anders tilted his head. “Then why is he hand-shy?”  
“Okay so...” McInnis ran a hand over his head and the stubble of his 4 mm cut. “So my hand slipped. Couple of times. Yeah... I know. But I’m working on it! I am! I lost the woman I loved, man! I was... I couldn’t deal with it!”

Miss Lucas looked back and forth between the two men who could hardly be any more different. “Gentlemen,” she said. “This is getting out of hand. We should not be having this discussion with Russell present.”

“You don’t really want to go with him, do you?” McInnis asked Russell before Miss Lucas could stop him.   
“No,” the boy sobbed into his shirt.   
“See?”

Anders gave his tie a twitch and rolled his shoulders, trying not to grit his teeth. “If that’s what he wants, then I’m not going to drag him away,” he said slowly. “I don’t’ want to cause him any more distress than he’s already in.”  
“You could’ve thought about that before you came blundering into his life!”  
“I didn’t have a choice about it!”  
“STOP!” Miss Lucas stepped between them and glared both of them into silence. 

“I want to stay with Kevin,” Russell whispered into the silence.  
“Then you stay,” Anders said calmly as he lowered himself down into a crouch to be on eye-level with him. Russell looked at him, but only for a second before he hid his face in McInnis’s shirt again. Anders slowly straightened up again.

“I understand,” he said to McInnis. “He wants to stay with you. You’re the father he knows. We both have his best interest in mind, and I’m sure if we act like grown men we can come to a solution.”  
McInnis silently met his eyes, arms wrapped protectively around the boy.  
“I’ll make sure to visit you,” Anders said to Russell despite the boy not looking at him. Then he addressed McInnis again. “I don’t trust you, as little as you trust me. But Russell does. So he wants to stay with you, I get it.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “But if you beat him one more time, then the next time we see each other will be in a courtroom.”

“As if you know what it means to bring up a child,” McInnis said roughly.  
“Right, I don’t. Not much, in any case. But I do know better than to use physical violence on someone who is less than half my size. I can’t offer him much, that’s true. But the one thing I can say is that I would never, ever raise my hand against him.”

Miss Lucas was still standing with her arms crossed, looking back and forth between all three of them. Russell seemed to have calmed down somewhat, and after giving her a nod, Anders stepped back.

“That settled it, then,” he said. He felt wrong, somehow, as it seemed that all the turmoil he had been through last night had been for naught, and he was torn between feeling relieved and feeling the worst coward ever. He was just about to turn around when Russell tore himself away from McInnis.

“Don’t leave me!”  
Anders closed his eyes and dropped his head. “Jesus, no...” He turned around.  
“Don’t go...” Russell whispered, tears streaming down his cheek. 

“Russ!” McInnis hurried towards the boy. “I thought you wanted to stay!”

With growing despair and distress, Russell looked back and forth between them. 

“Stop that, McInnis!” Anders said sharply.   
“Russ, do you want to stay with me or go with him?”  
Russell burst into tears again.  
“Miss Lucas, stop this, please,” Anders muttered, but she was already barging forward.

“Mr McInnis!” Miss Lucas stepped in front of him and pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “Stop this at once! You can’t force a five year old to make a decision about this!” Then she quickly dialled a number.

“Hey, it’s Angie, I’m in B43. I need Mahler here now.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t care shit about his meeting! I have a severely distressed child here and I need him here right now!” She hung up and angrily herded the two men into separate corners of the room. 

Not five minutes later the door opened and the person who entered looked like Santa Claus on his day off. White, somewhat unruly, curly hair, white beard, a jovial, friendly expression, and a pair of red, half-round spectacles perched on his nose. He took one look at the present company and his smile turned into a frown, only to reappear again the moment he looked at Russell. 

“Hey Russ,” he said with a clear German accent, voice deep and soothing. “What is wrong with you?”  
Russell clutched his alligator to his chest with one hand and wiped the other across his nose. 

“Angie?”  
Miss Lucas sighed. “Mr McInnis wants to keep the boy and Kevin wants to stay with him. Mr Johnson was ready to accept when Mr McInnis suddenly confronted the boy with having to choose between him and his biological father.”

Mahler’s expression darkened to a level that seemed impossible for such a friendly face. That expression was quickly replaced with a smile again, however. “Then let’s not make this worse, shall we? Come on, Russ, we are going to have a chat, just the two of us. Oh...” He looked up. “Angie, would you be so kind as to find us some cookies, and maybe some coffee and cocoa?”  
“Sure.” Then she herded both Anders and McInnis out of the room. 

“Horst Mahler is our child psychologist,” she explained as they walked. “There’s the waiting area.” She pointed to a few old sofas standing in a large niche further down the corridor. The table between them was covered in old magazines. “This may take a while, though.”

Anders sat down and crossed his arms, but McInnis hid himself behind a magazine about cars and bikes. 

“Why did you have to go and do that,” Anders said flatly. 

McInnis muttered something that sounded like _fuck off_ and didn’t grace him with a single glance. But Anders could see the magazine trembling.

Closing his eyes, Anders let his head drop back. And then, through all the tiredness and exhaustion, he felt a knot in his stomach that was neither. It was hot, and it hurt, and it took him a while to realise what it was. Anger. How could that pathetic asshole treat the boy that way? How dare he? 

“I don’t know what you thought would happen,” Anders said in a low voice. “You wanted me to fuck off? I almost did. But you know what? After this, I won’t leave here without him. Did you mean to make me feel even worse about all this? Or did you want to break him so that if you can’t have him, neither can I?”

McInnis finally looked past his magazine at Anders, pure murder in his eyes. 

The anger coagulated into cold fury, and Anders stared right back, completely forgetting that he was a coward, only getting by with avoiding all conflict and never seeking out confrontation.

It was when McInnis vanished behind his magazine again that Anders realised it: For the first time in his life, he had just won a stare-off.


	8. Chapter 8

At a loss about what else to do, Anders texted Dawn and told her what happened. Her reply was almost comical; the usually so prim and proper Dawn was clearly bristling with fury and it showed in an uncharacteristically high amount of typos. 

Their conversation then turned towards the immediate future, something that made Anders want to drop the phone and hide under the sofa, and of organisational challenges. Dawn had started with contacting their current clients to inform them of a momentary delay in current projects due to a family emergency. So now Anders had about a week or two to get back in touch with them to figure things out. 

Then she told him about the progress of the work on accommodation. They had already gotten Anders’s clothes and toiletries as Ty had the spare key to his apartment and were now debating if they should buy Avengers bedclothes, Spiderman or those with the dinosaurs on. She assured him they were taking good care of his fish and that his little scaly friends were in best health and spirits.   
That, at last, brought a tiny smile to his face. 

He was still staring at the screen with the smile in place when the phone rang, and he was so out of it he almost dropped it. It was Dawn, and with a confused frown he took the call and walked away from the waiting area.

_“Hey,”_ she said. _“Sorry if... I just had to talk to you in person. How are you holding up?”_  
“Not really sure, to be honest,” Anders replied. “That was literally the last thing I ever wanted to see.”  
 _“I can imagine.”_ She sighed. _“Who would do that to a kid? What a wanker.”_  
Anders couldn’t help it; he just had to smile every time Dawn used the word.  
 _“You still there?”_  
“Yes... yes.” He shifted the phone to the other hand. “It’s just the fact that this is the filthiest thing you can come up with never fails to crack me up. You just saying the w-word makes me smile every time.”  
 _“Oh!”_ Her voice was bright. _“Why didn’t you say so? Wanker, wanker, wanker. There, feel better now?”_

Anders had to chuckle and had to admit that yes, he did feel a bit better now. Maybe not really better, but less shitty. 

“Dawnsie, what would I do without you?”  
 _“You’d be lost the moment you walk out of your door, and you know it.”_  
“Now more than ever before,” Anders replied, his mood already weighing him down again.   
_“Oh Anders,”_ she said, her voice warm and full of compassion. _“I wish I could be there and hug you. I’m sure you could use it.”_  
Anders exhaled a soft huff that was almost a chuckle. “I wouldn’t mind having someone here to...”  
 _“To give you a hug and tell you it’s going to be all right,”_ Dawn said firmly. _“That’s why I’m calling, you know? I obviously can’t hug you, but I can tell you it’s going to be all right. Maybe not next week... and maybe not next month, either, but it’s going to be all right.”_

“You seem utterly convinced,” Anders replied slowly.  
 _“Of course,”_ Dawn gave back briskly. _“It will turn out just fine, given due time. Because you know what? Anything else is not an option.”_  
Anders didn’t reply.  
 _“Anders?”_  
“Am I doing the right thing?” Anders leaned against the wall. “I’m not even sure if I can make it better, but I can see a million ways I can make it worse.”  
 _“Yes, you are doing the right thing. It’s not your fault the boy sees you for the first time during the worst moments of his young life.”_

“A total stranger.” Anders closed his eyes.  
 _“Try to look at it this way,”_ Dawn said after a moment. _“His stepfather is obviously not an option. He can’t stay with him, can he?”_  
“No.” There it was again, that hot knot of anger.   
_“So there’s either the children’s home or foster family. Am I right?”_  
“What are you driving at?”  
 _“I am driving at this, Anders: He needs to leave his stepfather anyway. So if it’s children’s home or foster family or both, the people who will care for him from now on will be strangers to him either way, won’t they?”_

Anders lifted his head and stared at the opposite wall. 

_“I can hear you think and I’m sure it’s a good sign. Am I right?”_  
“You’re always right, Dawn.”  
She chuckled. _“Glad someone finally acknowledges it. So whatever happens to him, he will be surrounded by strangers. But if he is here, Anders, he will only have to go through it once.”_  
Anders shifted his phone to the other ear. “So you think it’s not as bad for him as I think it will be?”  
 _“Probably not. We’ll get to know each other and get familiar and comfortable and that’s it, then. So that’s one side covered.”_

“One side? And what’s the other?”  
 _“You,”_ Dawn said simply. _“Obviously, you can’t just adjust your life.”_  
“No.” He swallowed hard. “It freaks me the fuck out.”  
 _“To be honest, Anders, I would be more worried if you weren’t scared. This is momentous, and that you’re willing to take that step...”_ She took a deep breath. _“I don’t think I have ever admired you more, Anders. That takes so much courage, and I am so proud of you. And I’m still not sure if you’re the real Anders Johnson or some sort of weird doppelganger.”_  
“Proud?” Anders dropped his voice to almost a whisper, ignoring her attempt at a joke. “Courage? Dawn, I’m not brave or anything. I’m not a hero sweeping in to save a poor little boy. I just... I can do nothing else, but it... I don’t want to lose my life. It was fine just the way it was. I just fear I’m going to resent him for it and then...”  
 _“Anders,”_ Dawn soothed him. _“You are a hero. To him, you are.”_  
“Not if I’m going to fuck it all up and start to hate him because he destroyed my life.”  
 _“Well, then it’s a good thing you have us to put your head on straight again if that should happen because it was your choice, not his.”_

“But I don’t have a choice, Dawn.”  
 _“You always have a choice,”_ she said calmly and firmly. _“You always have a choice. You can put him into foster care. You could even give him up for adoption. No one is stopping you but your own conscience.”_  
“That’s what I mean!”

_“Anders, as far as I know you didn’t even have much of a conscience before which could have stopped you or made you do anything. That it kicks in full force now... well I can understand it’s disturbing. And that’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Despite everything, you do have a heart, and you apparently also have protective instincts. This isn’t only about fucking things up for Russell. It’s also about what happens to you. Which brings us right back to what I was trying to make you understand: Russell is not the only one who needs our help here, Anders. His life is about to be changed as much as yours is, you said so yourself. And you don’t like the thought, obviously. But this is where you have to stand your ground. You make the choice, you face the consequences. Only...”_ Her voice softened considerably. _“You don’t have to do it alone. I don’t know how much Mike and Axl are going to stand behind all this in the long run, but I promise you, no, I swear, Ty and I will not back out and give up on you two.”_

Anders swallowed against the hard lump in his throat.   
_“Anders, this is changing all our lives, although none of us will be as affected as you. And we all want this to turn out okay.”_  
He dropped his head against the wall.  
 _“Anders?”_  
“I don’t want to do this...”  
 _“Then why are you doing it?”_  
“Fuck if I know.”

_“Don’t give me that. You know perfectly well why you’re doing it, you are just not ready to admit it to yourself. You didn’t feel anything about all this when it was still just a stack of paperwork. But now this is more than a piece of paper. You have seen him. He’s a person now, not just a name. He is your son, Anders. And now you feel protective. And probably even more. It’s not love, Anders. It can’t be. Not yet. But you can learn to love him.”_  
Anders snorted mirthlessly.   
_“And if you don’t stop being a dick about it and refuse to accept that it can happen, then it won’t. But whatever happens... Anders, he needs you.”_  
“I know. He doesn’t have anyone else.”  
 _“And you need him.”_

Anders almost dropped the phone. “The fuck? This is the most epic fuck-up that has ever happened to me, so why the fuck...”  
 _“You need him,”_ Dawn cut him off. _“You know why? Because you know him now. You have seen him. You, or at least a part of you, wants to take care of him. You want to give him what you never had. And if you rob yourself of that chance now, you will regret it and hurt for the rest of your life.”_  
“But...”  
 _“Anders, you can’t undo this. You can’t unsee him. And if you back out now, it will not only destroy Russell’s life but also yours, because you will never be able to live with yourself anymore if you do. You have to do this for him, and for yourself as well.”_

Anders was still thinking of a reply when he heard footsteps coming into his direction.

“I need to go,” he told Dawn and ended the call. Slipping his phone into his pocket again he headed back to the waiting area to find the psychologist look at him with a neutral expression bordering on friendly.

“So, gentlemen.” Mahler nodded at each of them, and McInnis dropped the magazine and got up. “A word, please. Mr McInnis?”

McInnis nodded and followed Mahler, and Anders fell down into the old sofa again in a puff of dust. He watched the dust motes dance in the shaft of sunlight falling through the window and forced himself to think about Dawn’s last words.   
He came to the conclusion that she was right. He would never be able to live with himself anymore. And maybe he should at least try and stop thinking about this as an abysmal nightmare. That was easier said than done, however. 

Crossing his arms, he stared straight ahead. He tried to think of his brothers and Dawn busily making preparations for their homecoming, and the thought made him smile. Who would have thought that the appearance of an illegitimate child would bring his family closer together instead of driving them further apart with anger and accusations? He didn’t dare to hold his breath, however. Maybe Dawn meant what she said, but despite Mike’s initial commitment he remained wary.

While he waited and tried to get his head around what was happening and why, Anders got up and stared out of the window. He would need to focus on very different priorities from now on, and he started with the immediate problem of being able to go back to work. BY sheer luck the mid-year holidays had just started, but within a few weeks he would have to transfer Russell into a school in Auckland. 

The thought about what his reaction would have been to someone telling him half a year ago that he would be pondering school choices rather than weekend parties sometime soon made him shake his head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Well, he could always get himself a babysitter.

If he could only have this over with already. Standing here and waiting for some sort of verdict by a shrink as to who would be taking care of his son was grating on his nerves.  
There, he had said it again, hadn’t he? If only to himself. His son. It was a strange sensation, and not an entirely unpleasant one. Maybe he really could get used to this father business at some point.

“Mr Johnson?”  
Feeling anxious and relieved at the same time, Anders turned around.   
“Come with me, please.” 

Mahler led him into an office at the other end of the corridor. McInnis was nowhere in sight.

“Please, take a seat.” He indicated towards two chairs somewhat apart from the desk. 

They sat facing each other, no table or desk between them. Mahler picked up a clipboard, the paper on it covered in notes.

Anders adjusted his tie and Mahler smiled upon noticing the gesture. “I can assure you, Mr Johnson, I am not going to strangle you.”  
“Sorry.” Anders tried to smile. “Nervous habit.”  
Mahler chuckled and looked over the notes on his paper. “I am sure you agree that we find ourselves in somewhat unlucky circumstances?”  
“That’s putting it mildly.”

The psychologist nodded and looked at his notes again, and made some more with an old and worn pencil that was just barely long enough to grasp.

“Now, we do not need to go through all of the last weeks.” He looked up and adjusted his glasses. “And despite the shock that this must have been, you declared yourself willing to take the boy into your care.”  
“I did.” It still felt strange and somewhat scary. “So did Kevin McInnis.”  
“But...” Mahler said pointedly. “Mr McInnis is not related to the boy. Can we just look at your personal circumstances? I have a few questions I need answered. I am not completely into the case at this point.”  
“Sure.”

Mahler asked, and with each answer, he ticked something off on his paper.

“Your occupation?”  
“I own a PR agency.”  
“Oh. A big business?”  
“No. Only me and my PA.”  
“I see. Your marital status?”  
“Single.”  
“You live alone, then?”  
“Yes.”  
“Do you have any place for the boy to live?”

Anders shifted in his seat and explained at length what he and his family had talked about and the plans and preparations they had made.

“Very good.” The corners of Mahler’s eyes crinkled. “It’s always good to have family around to help.”  
Anders refrained from saying that this wasn’t how his family normally ticked.  
“Are you going to get a therapy plan for counselling?”  
“I don’t know. Should I?”  
“You should. See, this came as a shock for both of you. And Russell just lost his mother. The fact that you take him with you away from everything he knows will add to that. So I strongly advice you do.”  
“Then that’s what we do,” Anders said with much more conviction than he actually felt.

Mahler looked at him over the rim of his glasses, and Anders suddenly realised what this conversation was implying. Mahler must have seen it on his face, because he smiled. It made him look more like Father Christmas than ever.

“So,” Anders said after a moment. “He’s not going back to McInnis.”  
“He will for the time being, until you leave. They need the closure and time to make their farewells.”  
“Is that safe?”  
“I deem it safe, Mr Johnson.”  
“I understand.”  
“When will you be leaving?”  
“As soon as I can get a flight. I start looking immediately and keep you posted.”  
“Right. I will inform Mr McInnis that he has to keep himself and the boy ready.”

They got up, shook hands, and left the office. Russell and McInnis had gone already, so Anders headed back to the hotel. The next flight to Auckland he could get two tickets for would be leaving late in the afternoon the next day, and without thinking about the cost, Anders booked the tickets. He called Mahler, and after that, undressed down to his briefs and crawled into the bed. Then he texted Mike.

Anders put the phone down on the nightstand and closed his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

At ten a.m. Anders was standing in the small courtyard in front of the main entrance together with Angela Lucas and Horst Mahler, waiting for McInnis and Russell.   
But when they finally arrived it was almost half past ten, and the driver of the taxi Anders had ordered had dollar signs in his eyes by then. 

Mahler was watching intently as the two left McInnis’s pick-up. McInnis himself had a tight face with lines carved deeply around the corners of his mouth. Russell looked as if he had spent the whole night crying. Without looking at Anders, McInnis heaved a large suitcase and a packing case from the loading space.

“Spent the whole night packing. It’s everything.” He addressed Miss Lucas, still not looking at Anders.   
“A bag with necessities would have done for now, Mr McInnis. Thank you very much.”  
“I guess you have to get the case shipped.”  
“We will sort that out, Mr McInnis.”

There was an awkward pause in which Anders exchanged a look with Mahler and desperately wished he could say something useful.  
McInnis now proceeded to take the car seat out and put it down beside the other luggage. 

“Will you be needing reimbursement?” Miss Lucas asked him.  
McInnis almost spat at her feet. “No. He can keep his money and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.”

Anders slowly crossed his arms and McInnis finally looked at him.

“I know what you’re thinking. Likes of you will always get the better of people like me. You, and your money, and expensive suits, and all that shit.”  
“Mr McInnis, I assure you...”  
“I don’t want to hear it.”

“I don’t care.” Anders met his eyes. “You started it. You see, I wasn’t always a slick suit. My parents were both alcoholics; my father was so violent I ended up in hospital once and how he managed to talk his way out of that I will never know. I wore clothes that were hand-me-downs of hand-me-downs and I went to school without lunch about half of the time. And you know what?” Anders leaned the slightest bit forward. “I promised myself that I would be able to buy anything I want when I grew up, so I worked my ass off to get an education in a home where books were considered a waste of money, and I washed cars for pocket money so I could buy them myself. And goddamn right do I wear expensive suits because I have fucking earned them!”  
McInnis was at a loss for words.  
“And you can believe that or not, just as you like.” Anders straightened the lapels of his jacket and adjusted his tie. 

After a moment, McInnis lowered his eyes and walked over to the heap of baggage. “The suitcase is clothes and some toys and stuff. His favourites. Box is books and more toys and a few keepsakes. Photo album of us and his mum.”  
“Thank you very much,” Anders said carefully. “I’m sure Russell will appreciate it, especially in a few years’ time. And if you give me your contact details I’ll make sure you can keep in touch with him.”  
McInnis huffed. “As if.”  
“As you choose, of course. I’d rather settle all this amiably.”  
“Of course.” His voice was dripping venom. “You won. You get everything...”  
“This isn’t about winning. It’s about what’s the best for Russell.” 

Anders was keeping a very tight rein on himself. It was clear that the separation was affecting him deeply, and he most likely didn’t know how to deal with his feelings, but that didn’t mean Anders had unlimited patience for his bullshit. 

“Yeah, because blood relation, no matter who brought him up. So it’s about blood and money. Not love.”  
“If you really loved him you wouldn’t have beaten him into submission,” Anders hissed at him, and McInnis immediately lowered his eyes. Anders could only hope that Russell hadn’t heard this. 

Apparently he hadn’t, because he sat on one of the suitcases and busied himself with an action figure of Iron Man he had produced from his small backpack. 

“It’s time,” Miss Lucas said into the silence. “That taxi is already costing a fortune.”  
“It’s not as if he couldn’t afford it,” McInnis muttered.  
“That’s quite enough, Mr McInnis,” she replied. “Now. Russell?”

Russell looked up at her.  
“Time to say good bye.”  
He hunched his shoulders and looked at his feet, then slowly got up. “Bye, Kevin,” he muttered.  
“Good god,” McInnis muttered and knelt down to embrace the boy. Tears broke free from his eyes. “God, I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you, Russ. Please take care of yourself, yes? Please don’t forget me.” 

Then he let him go, and Russell looked at him with his sad eyes and a confused frown. Anders wasn’t quite sure if the boy really understood that this was a final good bye. With a sigh, he picked up the car seat and carried it over to the taxi. The driver had apparently a better knowledge about these things because he had it in place in no time. Then he helped Anders with the suitcases too. He was already making a small fortune and was obviously feeling generous. 

After rolling his shoulders, Anders now walked back towards the others. He offered Mahler his hand who took it with a grip like a vice. He nodded and gave Anders an encouraging smile. Miss Lucas’s hand shake was warm and firm as well.

“All the best, Mr Johnson. I don’t doubt that this will work out fine. With a few hiccups maybe, but it will work out fine. Once the files are transferred to Auckland you will be contacted.”  
“Thank you.” Anders nodded and then forced himself to look at McInnis. “Mr McInnis, I meant it. If you give me your contact data...”  
“I... I’ll just put them in the case here,” he said as he wiped a hand down his face. “That okay?”  
“Sure.” Anders swallowed hard an offered the other man his hand.

McInnis looked at it for a moment, and then hesitantly took it. Then their eyes met, and for a moment, they both held the gaze before McInnis let go of Anders’s hand. 

“I know I wasn’t perfect. But... Promise me you’ll take good care of him.”  
“I promise I will do all I can.”  
McInnis nodded. 

Anders then turned to look at Russell. “You ready?”  
Russell nodded. While he had looked extremely distressed when he had arrived, he was now strangely emotionless for such a momentous event. He really didn’t seem to understand.

Once he was in the car seat Anders fastened his seatbelt and then got into the car beside him. He looked at McInnis one last time to see him stand beside his truck with a stony face, tears streaming down his cheeks. He gave him one last nod, then closed the door. 

“So,” the driver sad as he pulled out of the lay-by. “Where to? Airport?”  
“Not yet,” Anders said. “We’re going to Karori first.”  
“Karori? That’s at the other end of the city, mate.”  
“I know.”  
“Karori it is.”

* * *

The day turned out to be a gold mine for the taxi driver. After a detour to buy flowers, they were now pulling into the car park of Karori Cemetery. Anders helped Russell out of his car seat, and after that pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket before looking around. Then the two made their way across the cemetery past rows and rows of graves until they stopped at one that was so new the earth was still dark. Two elderly ladies who were busily chatting watched them approach and fell silent.

Anders went down into a crouch and put his flowers down in front of the stone, a small bouquet of four white roses, a leaf of fern and some baby’s breath. 

“Quite the mess you got me into, April,” he said softly. “But then, you didn’t really have a choice, did you? I know you want me to take care of Russ, but the only thing I can promise is that I’ll do my best. I’ll give it all I have. You were right about Kevin, by the way. I don’t think he’s a bad guy, but Russell didn’t have exactly an easy time since you left.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead with a sigh. “At least I got my family on board with this one. They’re going to help me, so I probably won’t fuck it up completely. I wish I could have talked with you, but the stupid letter got lost in the files. I got it too late. I’m sorry.” With another sigh, he straightened up again. “Rest in peace, April. Though I wouldn’t mind if you’d rather be his guardian angel.”

He took a step back and looked at Russ. The boy looked up at him, his alligator clutched in one arm, and a single red rose in the other hand. Then he looked at the grave marker and Anders’s flowers. He slowly put the rose down.

“Bye Mum,” he whispered. “I hope it’s nice in heaven.”

Anders swallowed the lump in his throat as he stepped back. 

After a few steps, Anders cast another look back over his shoulder at the grave, and noticed the two ladies who looked at him and Russell with sad and sorrowful faces. Then he looked down at Russell who walked next to him with downcast eyes. 

Somewhat hesitantly, Anders held out his hand to him. Russell looked at the hand, up at Anders, and back at the hand again, before he took it as hesitantly. Together, they left the cemetery behind. 

As they had reached the taxi and Anders let go of his hand to help him into the car, Russell finally looked at his face.

“Anders?”  
“Yes?”  
“Where are we going now?”  
Anders made a brave attempt at a smile. “Auckland. We’re going home.”


	10. Chapter 10

The flight back to Auckland went smoothly, or as smoothly as it is bound to go when you are travelling with a five year old. It had started with a rather frantic search for a toilet as soon as they had reached the airport, followed by a somewhat disturbing scene when Russell refused to board because he was afraid of the tunnel that led to the plane. In the end, Anders picked him up and carried him, and two friendly young men with dreadlocks and flip flops were so nice as to help him with their hand luggage while Russell was clinging to him like a burdock and hid his face in Anders’s shoulder.

Once inside the plane however, Russell eagerly took the window seat and kept staring out of the window for the whole time in fascination. But apart from announcing that he needed the toilet and crying about not wanting to go through the tunnel he hadn’t said a word after they had left Karori, and he still kept silent during the whole flight.

At least Anders didn’t have to worry about losing Russell somewhere in the crowd, as he kept himself so close to Anders that he almost fell over him for a few times. Then it was retrieving the luggage, and after throwing the two suitcases and the car seat into the cart, Anders and Russell headed for the exit. 

He spotted them from far away as the Johnsons were really hard to miss, a very distinctive group of men that came in two sizes.   
Anders was wheeling the cart along with one hand while Russell clung to the other, and approached the unmistakable group that this time, was also accompanied by one woman. His nervousness came back in full force.

Then he came to a halt, met a lot of smiling faces, but Russell hid his face and buried it into Anders’s side. 

“Welcome home,” Dawn said with a smile. “I’m Dawn, your auntie. Don’t be afraid, Russell. We don’t bite.”  
“He’s a little shy,” Anders said, trying to smile as well. “Takes him a while to warm up to people.”  
“No surprise there,” Mike said, and he smiled too. Then he went down into a crouch. “Hey Russ. I’m your uncle Mike.”  
Russell hesitantly peeled his face out of Anders’s jacket and looked at him.   
“I guess you’ve seen pictures,” Mike went on, then proceeded to point at each of the others. “Your uncle Ty, your uncle Axl, and that’s Cousin Olaf.”  
Olaf waved cheerily and with a broad and happy smile, Axl grinned like a maniac, and Ty just smiled and nodded.

“Say hi?” Anders asked cautiously.  
Russell’s lips moved, but the ‘hi’ was hardly audible. Then he quickly buried his face in Anders’s jacket again.  
“That could have gone worse,” Dawn said brightly. “Ty and I prepared dinner. Do you like macaroni cheese?”  
At that, Russell finally looked at her and nodded.  
“Great! Let’s go!”

* * *

It felt strange, and somewhat uncomfortable, to not come home but sort himself out in an unfamiliar house. Anders had been here before of course, but only for a dinner or a coffee and a chat. But all of his things were now here, in one of the spare bedrooms, neatly folded and sorted. After dropping off his suitcase, he headed for the other bedroom where Ty had just deposited Russell’s suitcase and backpack in a corner. 

“I see you went for the dinosaurs,” Anders said in an attempt at distracting himself.  
Ty smiled. “Yeah, we didn’t want to be awkward.”  
Anders rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Thank you.”  
“No worries.” Ty’s smile grew even wider. “We’re more than happy to help.”  
“I can see that,” Anders replied and managed a smile as well.

Downstairs, Dawn had settled Russell at the table and the boy was already busily shovelling macaroni cheese into his face. Literally.   
Dawn shrugged somewhat helplessly, and Ty and Anders exchanged a look.  
Russell was sitting slumped over his plate, left arm propped onto the table before him, and he ate so fast as if he was afraid of Dawn taking away the plate again any moment. He didn’t close his mouth while eating, either. Obviously, no one had seen it fit to teach the poor boy some proper table manners.

Anders cleared his throat. “Russ?”  
The fork froze in mid-air, and Russell looked up at him, his eyes widening.  
“Just... please... sit up straight, okay? Take the arm off the table, and close your mouth. Can you do that?”  
Russell swallowed and nodded hastily, then adjusted his posture. 

The rest of the dinner went without any problems, and it was clear that Russell gave it all he had. He was constantly watching Anders from the corners of his eyes and tried to copy his every move.   
Still, he devoured an amount of food that made all three of them wonder where the hell he put it all.

Russell also managed two cupcakes for dessert, but shortly after that, he began to wriggle in his chair.

“You all right, Russ?” Anders asked.  
“I need the toilet,” he muttered, staring at his empty plate.  
“Come on,” Dawn said and got up. “I show you where it is.”

Anders looked at his brother with a sigh. “It’s not only me who has to learn the ropes here, is it?”  
Ty shook his head with a somewhat tight smile. “No. And I still can’t believe this is really happening.”  
“Tell me about it,” Anders said with a heavy sigh.

Dawn came back downstairs and started clearing the plates away. Ty and Anders joined her, and Anders was just about to ask Dawn for a coffee when Russell yelled from upstairs that he was done. Anders went a little pale.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “That, too?”  
“Come on,” Ty said. “It’s not as if you haven’t wiped ass before.”  
“Yes, but that was my own ass and my own shit.”  
“You want me to do it?” Dawn asked gently.  
Anders rolled his shoulders. “Don’t tempt me.”  
“You sure?”  
Anders looked at her with tired eyes. “I’ll have to do it eventually anyway. Better get used to it now. I made the bed, I’ll lie in it.” He rolled his shoulders again. “Fuck.” Then he darted up the stairs.  
Ty and Dawn exchanged a compassionate smile with shakes of their heads.

Anders entered the bathroom very hesitantly. Russell looked up at him from the toilet, and Anders noticed that his legs were dangling down, his feet rather far from touching the ground. It struck him again how small, how young he actually was, despite those sad eyes that looked far older than they had any right to.

“Okay. We deal with this business like men, right?” Anders said as he took the roll of toilet paper. “No farting.”  
Russell nodded solemnly.

* * *

Bedtime proved to be the next challenge as again, doing things Anders was perfectly capable of turned into a major pain. This time it was brushing teeth which turned out to be more than awkward when he had to do it in someone else’s mouth.   
Anders promised himself that as soon as things had settled down somewhat, they would have to do some lessons in personal hygiene. 

A glass of water and a frantic search for a pair of pyjamas later, Russell was finally in bed and looked at Anders with an unreadable expression as he pulled up the duvet. Anders tugged one corner into place and cleared his throat.

“You okay, Russ?”  
Russell nodded.  
“We’ll get this all sorted, right?”  
Russell nodded again.  
“Okay... uhm. Good night?”  
“Good night, Anders.”

Anders patted the boy’s shoulder and left, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Once downstairs again, Anders fell unceremoniously into the sofa and closed his eyes with a groan. Moments later, someone nudged his shoulder and he looked up into Dawn’s gentle smile as she held out a cup of tea to him.

“Thanks. Dawnsie, you’re an angel.”  
“Doing my best. Just like you.”  
Anders took a sip of tea and shrugged. “I’m beginning to realise that there’s a lot more to all this than I was able to imagine.”  
“And how could you have known?” Dawn sat down beside him. “That’s why you’re here and not alone at your place. Not only because of the space.”  
“But you don’t have any kids, either.”  
“No, but I have two nieces and a nephew, and while that doesn’t qualify me as a surrogate mum, I do know some things about kids, and that’s why I will help you.”  
Anders nodded and closed his eyes. 

He dragged himself into bed soon after he had finished his tea, but he was still lying wide awake and listened to Dawn and Ty go to bed two hours later. He was absolutely knackered, but sleep refused to come. It was after midnight when he finally managed to fall asleep.

Only to wake up again what felt like five minutes later, but a glance at his phone told him it was little more than an hour after he had looked the last time. His head felt like filled with cotton wool. Then he heard what must have awoken him: It came from Russell’s room, and it sounded like he was crying.

 _For fuck’s sake, no one beat you up today, go back to sleep,_ Anders thought, only to instantly call himself a few very choice and vile names as he swung his legs out of the bed. Groggily he rubbed his eyes and walked over to peek into the boy’s room. He couldn’t see a thing and stuck his head in.

“Russ? You okay?” _Yeah, of course you asshat, he’s crying into his pillow in the fucking middle of the fucking night because he thinks it’s fun._

With a sigh, he walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Russ?”  
Russell only curled up more and tried to stifle his tears.  
Anders was completely at a loss. It wasn’t the first time that he regretted his choices of the last few days. He was in way over his head.

He had no fucking clue how to make Russell stop crying. He wanted him to stop; he wanted to go back to bed, but he also wanted Russell to not cry anymore. If that was him...

If that had been him, Anders thought with a mental sneer, Johan would have given him a smack around the head long since, telling him to stop snivelling or sleep on the kitchen floor. With a heavy sigh, Anders closed his eyes and shook his head, and with a slow, hesitant move he reached out and placed his hand between Russell’s shoulders. He could feel the boy tense.

“Hey.” He swallowed. “We get this sorted, Russ.”  
A stifled sob was his only answer.  
“It’s going to be okay,” Anders said as convincingly as he could. It was both for the boy’s and his own sake. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

It took a long time, but eventually Russell calmed down again and went still. Anders cautiously removed his hand.

“You okay?”  
This time, he got no answer.  
“Russ?” He whispered.  
But Russell was breathing calmly now. He had fallen asleep again.

Once back in his own bed, Anders stared at the ceiling. “I am so fucked,” he whispered to no one in particular.


	11. Chapter 11

When Anders dragged himself downstairs the next morning, Russ was already up, still in pyjamas, but eagerly devouring breakfast cereals. As he spotted Anders he swallowed and sat up while hastily removing his arm from the table. Anders managed a smile and headed for the kitchen in the hopes of coffee.

Dawn handed him what had to be the largest mug in the house.

“Morning,” she said brightly. “Slept okay?”  
Anders took a cautious sip, then realised that Dawn, bless her, had added some cold water and he gulped half of it down. “No,” he said. “Not really.” He cast a cautious look over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “He cried last night. I had no fucking clue what to do and it took him ages to stop.”  
Dawn’s smile softened and she patted his arm. “This is all a bit much for a five year old to take in, I guess.”  
“Not only for a five year old,” Anders muttered.

Dawn patted his arm again and poured him a re-fill.

* * *

That night Russell was due for a bath, and Anders was a little taken aback when he got his first look at the boy without clothes. He was scrawny, almost fragile; he looked as if he had never in his life been able to eat his fill. But then, Anders had always been a scrawny child as well. So he shrugged and rolled up his sleeves before he equipped himself with the shower head.

Russell looked as if he was ready to bolt, and Anders remembered that he had hated bath time as well until he had been able to do it himself. It had probably been a mix of the uncontrollable amount of soap and water in his face and his mother’s indifference to it that had caused it. Russell was already covering his face with his hands as Anders turned the water on. 

“Here, hold that,” he said as an idea struck him, and he handed Russ the shower head. 

He opened several cupboard doors, watched by a very bemused little boy, until he had found what he was looking for. He sat back down on the edge of the bathtub with a forced smile and handed Russell a washcloth. 

“Hold that to your face. Keeps the water out of your eyes.”

Russell blinked a few times, but he grabbed the cloth and quickly covered his face with it. 

The rest of the shower went by without any incident and no screaming, and Anders was a little proud of his sudden idea. Russell could even wash himself reasonably well after Anders had washed his hair. He was about to climb out when Anders cleared his throat.

“You forgot something,” he said and pointed at Russell’s crotch.   
Russell looked down, then back at Anders with widening eyes.  
“Don’t you think that needs a wash, too?”  
“But I did wash it.”  
“I beg to differ.” Anders picked up the shower head. “You gave it a cursory rinse.” Then he frowned, a very unpleasant thought creeping up on him. “Did... you know... did someone tell you it’s dirty... or something? You’re not supposed to touch it?”  
Russell ducked his head. 

_Heaven help me._ Anders took a deep breath and rubbed a hand across his eyes. “That’s b... that’s nonsense. It’s a part of your body just like anything else.”  
“But it smells.” Russell was shifting from one foot to the other.  
“Oh for fuck’s sake, of course it smells when you don’t wash it properly.” Jesus Christ, was he really having a discussion about penile hygiene with a five year old? 

Russell looked as if he wanted to run as fast and far away as possible and hide under the biggest rock he could find, and Anders was ready to join him. 

“Now let’s do this properly.” _And watch your language, you idiot_.

Anders explained, and Russell did as he was told, the awkwardness of the situation only abated by the fact that Anders was somehow able to maintain his matter-of-fact attitude. He could hear Dawn outside, sorting through the laundry, and didn’t even dare to hope she hadn’t heard this.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Anders said as he wrapped the boy into a towel.  
Russell looked at him, droplets still clinging to his lashes. “No.”  
“See. Easy-peasy.”  
“But...” Russell rubbed his eyes. “How do you know all that?”  
“Know what?”  
“How you wash a... a...”  
“A penis.” Anders could only take so much in one go. “What do you mean, how do I know how to wash one? I have one myself, in case you wonder.”  
Russell’s eyes widened almost comically. “You do?”

Anders blinked.

“Because Kevin said you don’t have one and that’s why you wear a tie all the time.”  
Anders stared at the boy with his mouth hanging open until a snort and a hardly suppressed giggle from outside made him snap it shut. “Excuse me? I do have a penis, thank you very much!”

Russell stared at him with wide eyes and parted lips, and outside, Anders could hear Dawn fight for composure. 

“You know what? This is getting totally absurd now.” Anders got up and herded the boy out of the bathroom, passing Dawn who was pressing a hand to her lips. He glared at her, then let his shoulders drop with a sigh. “Just go ahead. I would think it’s hilarious too if it wasn’t me.” He turned around, but looked at her over his shoulder again before entering the room after Russell. “Or my dick, or its existence. Just laugh.”  
“Oh Anders...” 

They looked at each other for a moment, and Anders felt the corners of his mouth twitch before they both grinned.

* * *

Alone during the first two weeks, Anders learned things he would never have thought possible. While he more or less adapted well enough to the daily routine, some things were a bit harder to take in. 

For example, he learned that boys of only five could have morning wood and that this could prove to be hazardous when said boy was in a hurry to go to the toilet and not awake enough to remember to adjust things properly.

Or that it was perfectly possible to have a twin set of absolutely identical T-shirts of the same size, the same fabric in the same colour, out of the same package, and one fit and the other didn’t. 

Or that the world was coming to an end when the favourite shirt happened to be in the laundry.

And socks. Socks were the devil’s own invention.

Dawn assured him that all that was perfectly normal for a five year old. 

Anders’s nerves were rapidly thinning out.

And every evening, it was the same ritual. Anders asked if he was okay, Russell said yes, and around midnight, the boy woke up and was in tears. 

The loss of sleep was beginning to take its toll, and now Anders was also getting stressed because he couldn’t catch up on his workload. Dawn occasionally sent him to the office, but with his thoughts all over the place, even that helped little. 

He began to hate himself for ever having made the trip to Wellington. He should have refused. And then his conscience began to gnaw at him because that would have meant Russell wouldn’t have gotten out of abuse and neglect, or not in time at least, before he had taken serious damage. There was nothing for it. Russell had been about to be broken, but it felt that now, it was Ander’s turn. 

He had no idea how much longer he could keep himself going like that. Because it seemed as if every single time he had managed to get something down and into some sort of workflow, something else needed his attention. Or someone, to be precise. 

As Ty was looking after his flat and the fish every day on his way home from work, Anders hadn’t left the house during the first week, and had really felt no inclination to do so. During the second week he and Russell had accompanied Dawn for the grocery runs. 

It was at the start of the third week that the other Johnsons started to occasionally show up. But if it was Axl with a bag of candy, or Olaf with a new ball, or Mike with a box of LEGO, Russell’s reaction was always the same. He would hide behind Anders, and needed some serious coaxing to even look at them. 

It got better, though. At one point Russell had apparently realised that no one was going to yell at him or hit him, and he was slowly, very slowly, beginning to unwind. By the end of the third week, he actually agreed when Axl and Olaf suggested a football game in the garden and went outside with them. 

It was when Dawn turned away from looking out of the window and her eyes fell on Anders slumped on the sofa that her smile vanished. She made two cups of tea and walked over to sit down beside him. He didn’t even open his eyes.

“Anders?”  
“What.”  
“Are you... I mean, for a given value of, are you okay?”  
“No.” He did open his eyes then, red-rimmed and shadowed. “No, I’m not okay, not even for a given value of.”  
“Can I do something?”  
He closed his eyes again and let his head fall back. “Travel back in time six years and cut off my dick.”  
“Can I do something that is actually in my power to do so?”  
“I don’t know. Can you make him sleep? I mean, actually sleep without waking up every night and crying for fuck knows how long? I just...” Anders opened his eyes again. “I just don’t know what the fuck I’m doing wrong!”

Dawn put both mugs down and sighed. “I don’t think you’re doing something wrong, Anders. He’s been through a lot, and all this is affecting him deeply. That it all comes crashing down on him at night when he has nothing that distracts him... I think it’s normal. I actually think you’re doing a splendid job, considering the circumstances. I mean, he willingly left your vicinity the first time today and is outside with Axl and Olaf.”  
“Yeah, I noticed.”  
“And if I remember correctly, you have your first counselling session next week, too? I’m sure they’ll help you figure things out.”  
“Christ, I don’t want to see a shrink.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because there will be a lot of questions that I don’t really fancy having to answer.”

Dawn handed him the cup, and Anders took it with a nod.

“See,” Dawn said after a sip. “It’s supposed to help you both.”  
“I know it’s supposed to. But if he starts asking me about my past... I’m not sure we’d get anywhere anytime soon and...”  
“Anders,” she interrupted him. “I’m sure that you can benefit from it in more than one way.”  
“That’s what you say. I still don’t see why talking to a stranger should make anything better.”

Shaking her head with a sigh, Dawn looked out of the window again to see Axl and Olaf running around the ball like spooked chickens while Russell made a very meek attempt at kicking it. 

“I say it again, Anders, and I say it as many times as I have to until you believe me. You’re doing great.”  
Anders put the cup back down onto the table, leaned back and closed his eyes. “I want to go home, Dawn. Like a fucking little boy myself. I just want to go home and pretend nothing like this has ever happened.”  
“I understand. I totally understand.” Dawn touched his arm, but this time, Anders just shook it off with a jerk of his hand.

“No, you don’t.” He opened his eyes to look at her again. “You don’t fucking understand. No one does! I thought I would do the right thing, I thought I had to do this, and everybody thinks so but I... I know...” He tried to take a deep breath, but his breathing remained fast and shallow. “I can’t do this, Dawn. I just can’t.”  
“You’re just tired, Anders,” Dawn said calmly. “You’re on edge twenty four seven. You don’t get enough sleep. You have been cooped up in this house for three weeks now with doing little else than trying to catch up on work and watch a little boy play. But you know what?” She pointedly looked at the window. “He’s starting to get comfortable around us. So go. Go home for a bit. Go back to your apartment, go talk to your fish, take a breather. I can handle Russ for a few hours. You take a break.”  
Anders looked at her with burning eyes.   
“Just be back before dinner.”

Anders was out of the door so fast that Dawn could only stare at him. She shook her head with a heavy sigh, then got up and headed for the garden to tell Russell and the boys that Anders had to go to work for a few hours.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the scene where Anders sent Mike the picture of Russell? Well, the amazing [ryuuri](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ryuuri/pseuds/ryuuri) turned that scene into an amazing bit of fanart! I am so happy I can't even describe it. Look at this:  
> [Russell and Al the alligator](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4947895), as seen by Mike when Anders sent him the picture. Please check her out and send her some love!

* * *

The place was silent and empty. Just like it always was when he came home. But something was off. Something was not right. 

Anders closed the door behind him with a huff of breath and slowly walked towards the kitchen. He had a look around, checked on his fish after placing the keys down on the kitchen counter, and had another long look around.

He walked around, past every piece of furniture, touched every surface, every appliance in the kitchen. Fridge and freezer were empty and spotlessly clean, the doors slightly ajar. 

The place was empty. In a way he couldn’t really explain. 

The bathroom looked bare without towels on the rack and his things on the shelves. The bedroom was strangely barren with the huge white sheet covering the bed to protect it from dust.

For a while, Anders just walked aimlessly around, feeling like a stranger in his own home. He pulled a chair over to the fish tank and sat down with the backrest before him and folded his arms onto it. He stared at the fish, watched them flit through the water, in and out of the shelter of the plants.   
Watching his fish had always had a soothing, calming effect on him.

This time, it made him more restless than he had been before.

He got up again, put the chair back and went back into the bedroom. His own bed, in which he had fucked countless women and himself senseless. The box of sex toys under the bed. And the wardrobe that was almost empty because his clothes were over at Dawn’s. 

The place was empty because it was unlived in. No one lived here anymore. Anders slowly spun around.

It was his home... only, it wasn’t home anymore. No one lived here anymore, because he wouldn’t come back here. 

He would never live in this place again. He would never sleep in that bed again, would never crawl out of it to make himself a coffee in this kitchen. He would never again sit down at the glass table and have his breakfast or dinner, he would never again slouch on the sofa after a long day at work and watch television until he was about to fall asleep. He would never again just go out and pick up a random woman to take home for a night of fun, no strings attached. He would never use anything in that box under the bed again. 

His life was officially over, his sex life was officially over, and all that his future held were mismatched socks, loss of sleep without any fun, and bodily fluids that weren’t his own.

His life as he knew it was over, and suddenly felt so far behind him that he could hardly remember what it had felt like just to get up in the morning and have breakfast alone. His life was over and so far behind he might as well be dead.

Anders felt his heartbeat pick up speed, and his breathing sped up accordingly. Every muscle in his body went as taut as a bowstring.

Before his inner eyes, he suddenly saw himself pick up one of the chairs and shatter the glass table, then tear everything down from the kitchen surfaces and throw it down as hard as he could. Like the Hulk he turned over furniture, smashed the TV screen, shattered tiles and the mirror in the bathroom, kicked the bed into splinters and tore the bed sheets apart until only shreds remained. His brain just continued to conjure up images of himself destroying everything, until he watched himself break the glass of the fish tank and stomp on the poor little creatures until they stopped twitching. 

With his heart racing like mad, he grabbed the kitchen counter for support and groaned.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, April Jennings! Fuck you, you deceiving little bitch!! And fuck you, Anders Johnson, for being a naive and sentimental idiot!!”

The silence that followed his outburst sounded even more uncomfortable than before. Anders forced his breathing to slow down, grabbed his keys, and slammed the door shut behind him.

He spent the next two hours sitting on a park bench, staring at nothing and feeling like a ghost.

* * *

Anders was back before dinner, but it was clear that the few hours of breathing space had not had the desired effect. He was more wound up than ever before. Dawn and Ty exchanged more than one worried look during dinner preparations.

The atmosphere was tense during the meal, with Anders attacking the steak on his plate as if it was his mortal enemy. And when he finally looked up for the first time, he found Russell slumped over his plate again.

“For fuck’s sake how often do I have to tell you to sit straight!”  
Russell jumped so violently he dropped his fork.   
“Anders!” Dawn snapped at him.  
“Christ, Anders, was that really necessary?” Ty’s face was as dark as his voice.

Anders was completely frozen to the spot, and utterly mortified. He swallowed hard as he looked at Russell who in turn looked up at him with wide and fearful eyes that were already filling with tears. Anders hid his face in both hands with a groan. When he looked up again, a tear was trickling down Russell’s cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” Russell whispered tonelessly.  
“Yeah, I’m sorry, too,” Anders replied, voice somewhat unsteady. He meant to ruffle Russell’s hair, as he had done so often during the past two weeks – the only form of physical contact they both were somewhat comfortable with – but as he reached out, Russell shied back. 

Anders dropped his hand, swallowing hard. “Shit. No... I didn’t mean it that way... Christ, Russ, I didn’t mean it that way.”  
Russell’s only answer was another tear.

Anders shoved his chair back and bolted up the stairs.

Dawn put her fork down with a heavy sigh. “Russell.”  
The boy looked at her and swallowed. “But I’m sorry.”  
“I know you are. But so is he.”  
“I didn’t mean to make him angry.”  
“We know. Really.” Ty leaned forward and looked at him earnestly. “Yes, he snapped at you. But he isn’t angry at you. He’s angry because he was at work today and it stressed him out.”  
“He isn’t angry with you,” Dawn said as well.  
“And you know, Russ.” Ty met the boy’s eyes. “Even if he’s angry, you don’t have to be afraid. Anders will never, ever beat you. He won’t. There is no reason to be afraid of him. Okay?”

“Okay,” Russell replied after a moment, in a tiny voice.  
“Really,” Dawn added, her voice firm and calm. “Don’t be afraid of him. He does not beat children. None of us do.”

Russell nodded again, but he didn’t seem really convinced. 

Dawn and Ty looked at each other, then Dawn sighed and Ty shook his head.

* * *

Anders sat on the closed lid of the toilet, hunched over and hands crossed at the back of his head. 

He had fucked up. He had known from the beginning that this would happen. He had fucked it up. He had fucked up, and he had known all along he would fuck it up and now he had. 

_You are just a fuck up, Anders. A sorry little runt of a fuck up. You can’t do anything right. What did you expect?_

“Shut the fuck up Johan and fuck off,” Anders pressed out between gritted teeth. 

He waited until his breathing had calmed down again and slowly uncurled. But as he stood up, he got a look at himself in the mirror. 

He no longer knew who was looking back at him. 

With a shaky sigh, he turned around and left the bathroom with slow and heavy steps.

Dawn and Ty watched him approach when he came back to the table, but Russell hunched over and lowered his eyes.

“Hey.” Anders went down into a crouch. “Russ.”  
Russell looked up, but his eyes immediately darted away from Anders’s face.  
“Hey, please look at me.”  
The boy did so, but with great difficulty.  
“I’m sorry, okay? I really shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. But please...” 

He reached out again, very slowly, very cautiously, but this time, Russell at least didn’t flinch back. Anders gently placed his hand on Russell’s shoulder, but his voice sounded wooden and the words were stilted, as if he had memorized them from a script. 

“Everyone gets angry sometimes. And then things come out wrong. I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t make it better, okay? But please, don’t be afraid of me. I’d never hurt you.”

Russell swallowed and nodded mutely, but the fear slowly vanished from his eyes.

* * *

That evening Anders didn’t even try to go to sleep. He just lay there staring at the ceiling and waited, and sure enough, around midnight he could hear Russell begin to cry again. With a heavy sigh he got up and headed for the other room.

After sitting down on the bed, Anders could just make out the form of the boy under the blanket, curled up into a ball and shaking with sobs. 

Anders stared at the little boy, and realised with a sinking heart that the small bit of warmth he had felt when he had thought of him as his son had vanished. The only thing he felt was exhaustion, and a cold feeling of dread. 

This wouldn’t do. Everything would be better for the boy than this. Maybe not everything, he added mentally when he thought of McInnis, but this wasn’t it. He had bitten off way more than he could chew, and Russell had to pay the price now. 

His son. He hadn’t even been living with him for a month and Anders had already let him down and scared him. 

_That the best you got, you pathetic loser?_

_At least I didn’t beat him. And I never will. I’m not that pathetic that I’d need to beat someone half my size to feel superior._

Anders reached out and rested one hand on Russell’s back. He tensed, but he didn’t move away, either.

“I’m sorry, Russ,” Anders whispered. “I don’t want you to be scared of me. I...”

But he’d had it all before, hadn’t he? 

_I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I just lost it. Please, I won’t do it again._

And to what effect? It always happened again. And again. And again. 

Russell had just begun to open up, to show first signs of trust. And here he was, having shattered it all. Fucked it up beyond the point of no return. 

_I’m not my father. I don’t want you to be scared of me._

This time, it took Russell almost an hour to calm down again. When he had finally fallen asleep, Anders left the room and slowly walked down the stairs with heavy steps, entered the living room without switching on the light, and fell down onto the sofa.

His heartbeat was thundering in his ears, and he leaned forward, crossed his hands at the back of his head and tried to slow down his breathing in a vain attempt to calm himself. 

He had lost his home, his independence, his freedom, his sex life... everything that mattered to him, and gotten nothing in return but more stress than he could cope with. 

It all came crashing down on him at that moment, and he started to shake and couldn’t stop himself. Nothing he did could make him calm his breathing or his racing heartbeat. 

He didn’t hear the footsteps coming down the stairs, and didn’t notice that he wasn’t alone anymore until he felt Ty sit down beside him.


	13. Chapter 13

Tensing up even more, Anders leaned forward and gritted his teeth.

“Fuck off,” he whispered. “I want to be alone.”  
“Maybe,” Ty gave back in a low voice. “But you shouldn’t be.”  
“I don’t fucking care what you think I should or shouldn’t do. Leave me the fuck alone.”  
“Anders, I want to help you.”  
“You can’t help me. I fucked it up, and... Fuck, I should never have done it. I don’t have a fucking clue how I could ever believe this could work.”

“Anders,” Ty said. “Come on, you know that’s not true.”  
“I had no fucking clue,” Anders went on, ignoring Ty’s last remark. “I thought I knew my life was over, but I didn’t have a fucking clue what it actually means. I can’t... Ty, I can’t handle this.”  
“Non, not alone.”

Finally, Anders straightened up and stared at his brother with burning eyes. “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”  
“Anders... You’re here so we can help you figure things out, but you insist on doing everything alone. Every time one of us wants to help with something, you refuse. I don’t know why you believe... You’re my brother and Russell is my nephew. Anders, you... I know you feel like you’re in deep shit, but I want to help you and be here for you.”

“Deep shit?” Anders smiled mirthlessly. “Be there for me? Like last time I was so deep in shit I couldn’t even see my way out? When you had nothing better to do than run straight to Mike so you all could have a good laugh?”  
“Shit...” Ty swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “I know I was being an asshole. I think of it and... I know it doesn’t change anything, but I am so ashamed of myself when I think back that I can...”  
“Oh come on,” Anders sneered at him. “Back then it was great fun, wasn’t it?”  
“And that’s what makes it worse,” Ty gave back darkly. “Yes, I thought it was fun back then. I don’t know what I was thinking.”  
“You were thinking that I deserved it.”

“Yeah.” Ty lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said haltingly. “I’m fucking sorry I did that to you.”  
“At least you weren’t the only one.”  
“Does that make it better?” Ty looked up again, but Anders only shrugged.

“Anders, I don’t expect you to forgive me just like that, because I know that was... it was cruel. Just fucking cruel. I know it doesn’t help you that I tell you how ashamed I am. I can’t undo it. I wish I could. Fuck, it almost cost me the woman I love. When I told Dawn about this I was still thinking it was funny. And then she looked at me... and I thought she’d kill me. She packed her things and she left. She didn’t come back for three days. And then she put my head on straight and... I slept two nights down here before she was ready to sleep next to me again. Christ... Anders I’ve never seen her like that, and I never want to again. I know that doesn’t make it better, and I know that... it’s just... I know what I did. And that I needed Dawn to slap me around the face to see it only makes it worse.”

Anders finally straightened up and looked his brother squarely in the eyes. “I thought I was going to die.”  
“I know.”  
“I thought I was going to fucking croak it in the worst way possible! And you, and everyone else, thought it was hilarious. Even more so when it turned out that the bitch had only given me shit about her being HIV positive because I ditched her friend. Yeah, I deserved it. Anders deserved it for being like that around women. As if it was my fault that she didn’t understand the concept of a one night stand.”  
Ty didn’t reply. He just shook his head and then lowered his eyes. 

Anders rolled his shoulders and after a moment, just slumped forward again.

“I know I let you down. I know that must have hurt. I want to make up for it, Anders, but I don’t think I can.”  
“Thanks for letting me borrow your home. Now fuck off and leave me alone.”  
“No. No I won’t leave you hanging. Not this time.”  
“Which part of ‘Leave me alone’ don’t you understand?”

“Leaving you alone and letting you sit here about to implode isn’t why you are here, Anders. We knew something like this was bound to happen at one point. And to be honest, I’m surprised you made it that long without...”  
“Fucking it up,” Anders cut in. “I know.”  
“You did not fuck it up!” Ty closed his hand around Anders’s shoulder, but he shook it off. “You snapped, but you didn’t fuck it up. It was a setback, yes. But Russ isn’t afraid of you. He realised that you’re not going to turn into another Kevin McInnis.”  
Anders snorted and shook his head.

“Anders, I say it again: You need help. You’re running yourself ragged. Just let Dawn and me take some of that load. You’re stressed enough as it is what with your life being turned upside down.”  
“Upside down?” Anders chuckled under his breath. “It’s been torn to shreds. It’s over. My life is over, my sex life is over and I just... I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.”  
“You were thinking of doing the right thing without really knowing what it all means. And now you have to deal with more shit than you could have imagined. And that’s why I won’t fuck off, Anders. What part of ‘We want to help you’ don’t _you_ understand?”

Anders exhaled sharply. “Do you really think Dawn wiping some ass is going to change anything?”  
“Yes, it will. Because it gives you some breaks every now and then. You’re constantly on edge watching his every move. And at the same time you gotta deal with the fact that your life has fallen apart and you have to figure out how to go on, _and_ catch up with work because you can’t just ask your boss for a few weeks of unpaid leave. And you’re just bottling it all in. You just bottle it in, and of course that’s going to cause shit situations like the one at dinner tonight.”  
“So what do you suggest?” Anders asked with a grin that held no humour. “Primal Scream Therapy?”  
“No, that’s not you. But you gotta face the fact your life as you knew it is over. And work on putting it behind you. But you... or a part of you, anyway, is refusing to believe it’s over. You keep hanging on to something you can’t hold. You gotta let go, Anders. And unless you do that, you can’t fix things with Russell.”  
“I didn’t know there was anything to fix, really.”  
“Yes there is. And look at me, please.”

Reluctantly, Anders straightened up again and looked at Ty.

“He doesn’t open up, but neither do you. And he feels that. You’re tolerating him, Anders, but you’re not accepting him. And unless you accept him, you can’t make him feel welcome.”  
“I didn’t know you were a fucking shrink.”  
“I’m not. But Dawn and I talked a lot about this. He doesn’t feel welcome, and he doesn’t feel accepted. But to do that, you gotta accept that he’s part of your life now and it’s never going to go back to what it was.”  
“’Cause that’s all I want, isn’t it?” Anders asked tonelessly. “I just want to go back to what it was before and forget about everything.”  
“But you can’t. I know you know that. But just think of this: If you could give him back, would it really be back to what it was?”  
“I can’t give him back, you moron.”  
“I know. But just imagine you could. Just make him vanish out of your life. Would it turn back to what it was before?”

Anders didn’t reply. But he was beginning to tremble again.

“Anders, would it ever be like it was before?”  
“No.” It was a hoarse whisper. “No, it fucking wouldn’t.”  
“You gotta let it go, Anders. And it’s okay to...” Ty shrugged helplessly. “To... to mourn what you lost. Because I think without that, you can’t move on. And I know you want this, deep down. If you hadn’t wanted to give Russ what you never had you’d never thought twice about putting him into foster care.”

“Shit.” Anders crossed his hands at the back of his head.   
“Yeah, shit, I know. You feel like shit, because it’s eating you from the inside. You keep on trying to ignore and hide how rotten you feel. But it’s okay to feel like that. I know what kind of man you are, Anders. But I also know you can do this. You’re stronger than this. You worked yourself out of the misery that was our home without anyone backing you up, and that was even before you became Bragi. You did it before, turn your life around. You can do it again, but not if you don’t let go of the old one.”

“Just stop going shrink on me. Just fucking stop.”  
“Why?” Ty leaned a little forward. “Because I’m right? I’m poking you where it hurts, right?”  
“Fuck off.” It was hardly more than a croak.  
“For Christ’s sake, Anders. You’re like a fucking volcano. That today was just a tremor, but at one point you’re gonna explode and then it’s gonna be hell picking up the pieces.”  
“Fuck... off...” Anders gasped for air. “What the fuck do you think I gotta do?”  
“Let go. Stop looking back and look forward. Accept what’s been happening. Accept that Russ is now a part of your life, and don’t just try and live around him. And for fuck’s sake, just allow yourself to feel like shit because of it. You lost your old life. Trying to pretend it doesn’t matter is only going to make it worse.”  
“I said stop the fucking shrink routine,” Anders rasped, voice shaking.

“Okay,” Ty said after a moment. “Okay, I stop being your shrink. But I’m not fucking off. I’m just going to go on being your brother, Anders. And this time, I’m going to do it right.” With that, he draped an arm around Anders’s shoulders and held on despite Anders’s attempts at shaking it off. “Stop bottling it in and hurting yourself. You really don’t have to shoulder all this alone. And it’s not only wiping ass and brushing teeth I’m talking about.”  
Anders covered his face with his hands, breathing fast and heavily.  
“It’s going to be okay, Andy. Let it go. You’re not gonna go under, though. ‘Cause I got you.” 

With that, Ty pulled Anders up and towards him, and Anders suddenly dropped all resistance. He slumped against his brother who clamped his arms firmly around him. 

“I got you, Andy,” Ty whispered, tightening his hold, and Anders started to shake uncontrollably. “This time, I got you.”

Anders took one more shaky breath, and went violently to pieces.

And Ty held on for dear life. He just tightened his hold and didn’t let go, not until Anders had finally calmed down again. When Anders leaned back, Ty rested both hands on his brother’s shoulders.

Anders couldn’t meet his brother’s eyes for more than the duration of a heartbeat. He looked like shit. But the haunted look in his eyes was gone. 

“Fuck, I got snot on your shirt.” Anders was cringing with embarrassment.  
“Forget it.”  
Anders swallowed and shook his head.

After a firm squeeze of his hands, Ty slowly got up and took one of the fleece plaids from the backrest of the sofa to drape it around Anders’s shoulders. Then he headed for the kitchen to make tea.

Anders was staring straight ahead when he came back, still and silent as a statue. Ty sat down again and pried his hands apart to put the cup of tea between them, but he had to keep his hands around his brother’s for a good long moment before Anders finally grasped the cup himself. 

They sat in silence with their tea for a while, until Anders suddenly looked up and realised that the grey light of dawn was filtering through the curtains.

“Shit.” His voice was hoarse and still shaky. “I’ve kept you up all night.”  
“Fuck that. This was important. And it’s Saturday, so no work.”  
Anders didn’t reply.

They continued to sip their tea in silence while around them the room was slowly filled with the light of the rising sun. A car drove by outside, followed by another about a minute later.

With a heavy sigh, Anders leaned forward and got up, letting the plaid falling off his shoulders. He put his cup down onto the table and took a few steps towards the fireplace where he slowly lowered himself down onto one knee.

It wasn’t really in use; Ty and Dawn had just installed a metal basket with some fake coals for a small gas fire. But it was Russell’s favourite place to play and he used the dark and unlit fireplace as hideout, dungeon and HQ when he was playing with his Avenger figures.

Looking at them, Anders slowly reached out to pick up Iron Man.

“You watched Iron Man 3, Ty?”   
“I did. Why?”

Turning Iron Man over in his hand, Anders didn’t reply for a long time. Then put the figure down and looked up at Ty before he spoke again. 

“Operation Clean Slate,” he said softly and got up. “Time to get rid of all those suits of armour.”


	14. Chapter 14

When Dawn got up somewhat later she found the two brothers sit side by side on the sofa in silence, and she didn’t need to be a clairvoyant to see they had spent the whole night down here. She wordlessly headed for the kitchen and made coffee, then carried the cups towards the two who both looked as if they had not spent one, but three all-nighters in a row.

She didn’t need more than one look she exchanged with Ty to know, and in unspoken agreement she took care of Russell for the rest of the day while Ty and Anders spent most of the time sitting at the small coffee table under the window, talking in low voices. 

Anders was still sitting at the coffee table somewhat later in the afternoon, busy with his laptop now that Ty had started to make dinner. Dawn was sitting on the sofa with Russell and was reading from a book, a children’s version of Robin Hood. The boy was leaning against her, staring at the pictures and listening with rapt attention while clutching Al tightly to his chest.

With his concentration even more impaired now by tiredness and an exhaustion that had little to do with the lack of sleep, Anders found himself look up at the two ever so often. Dawn seemed to genuinely enjoy herself, and Russell was utterly enthralled. Anders felt a tiny smile tug at his lips, but then he wondered if anyone had ever read like that to him, and the smile vanished. 

With a sigh, he focussed on the laptop again and picked up his cup, only to discover that it was empty. He put it down again, but didn’t take his eyes off the screen. 

Yes, last night had been awful, but it had somehow managed to clear his mind. And while he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him every time his brother looked at him, he slowly came to grips with the fact that he had broken down like that and how it had happened. But there was no denying that he felt better now, and was suddenly able to tackle the things he had been avoiding during the last two weeks. 

And while had spent some time each day trying to catch up with his workload, his work wasn’t what he was looking at right now. For the moment, he was so lost in the various pictures on his screen while scribbling notes that he dropped the pen when Russell suddenly asked next to his elbow: “What are you doing?”

Anders looked down at him. “I’m looking at houses. You know, a place for us to live. I’m sure Dawn and Ty want their house back at one point.”  
Russell craned his neck and looked at the screen. “That one is nice.”  
“The white one?” Anders chuckled. “It’s got four bedrooms, Russ. It’s way too big for us two.”

“But it’s nice,” Russell said, lowering his voice and ducking his head a little.  
“Yeah, it is,” Anders replied and leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful frown appearing on his face. 

Dawn stepped closer now as well. “You could set up a home office in one of the spare rooms so you could work from home if you need to,” she said with a smile.  
“That’s still too many bedrooms,” Anders gave back, looking up at her.  
“Well, maybe you have someone visiting at one point who could stay overnight?”  
Anders lifted both eyebrows.  
“A babysitter, for example?”  
Anders crossed his arms and his eyebrows rose even higher.

“Or whatever you want, really.” Dawn smiled brightly and put a hand on Russell’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s see if we can help Ty in the kitchen and leave your father so he can work, okay?”  
Russell let himself be steered away. 

Uncrossing his arms, Anders leaned forward again and continued to browse the sites of various real estate agents, until Dawn announced that dinner was ready.

* * *

That evening Anders was too knackered to keep himself awake, but despite the fact that he had passed out almost instantly upon hitting the mattress, he woke up again when Russell started to cry. He couldn’t even explain it, it wasn’t that he was loud; it just was a sound that seemed to sink a needle right into Anders’s subconscious mind. 

Yawning so hard his jaw hurt, he walked over into Russell’s room and sat down at the edge of the bed. 

“Hey.”  
As usual, Russell only curled up more.

But now, Anders could speak from his own experience. And this time, it didn’t feel half bad. 

“Hey,” he whispered again and rested one hand on the boy’s back. “I know you’re scared. We’re still all strangers, and you don’t know what’s gonna happen. It’s a big thing that’s been going on, so it’s okay to be scared. But we, we all want this to turn out fine for you, Russ.”  
At that, Russell stopped shaking, then he slowly uncurled and turned onto his back. He was still crying, though.  
“Really, it’s okay to be scared of what’s gonna happen. But you don’t have to be scared of any of us. I meant it when I said I’m not gonna hurt you. Never. Ever. Can you believe that?”

Russell took a few deep breaths, and in the dim light, Anders could just about make out that he nodded. Then he reached out and took one of Russell’s hands. It was small, and warm, and limp, and he covered it with his other hand. 

“I know I’m not perfect. I have to learn the ropes about being a father, so I guess you gotta cut me some slack. But I’m doing all I can, because I want this to work out. I’m gonna make mistakes, Russ. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. Because I do care. I want this to be okay. For you, and for me. There’s the two of us, and we’re going to make this work somehow. Okay?”  
Russell swallowed hard and wiped his other hand across his face after a wet snuffle. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice still thick with tears.  
“Think you can go back to sleep?”  
The boy nodded again.  
“Good. I know you’re still scared, but you know what? You’re gonna be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Anders smiled to himself in the darkness. “I got you, Russ.” 

Russell nodded again, but as Anders was about to let go of his hand, he closed his fingers around Anders’s own and Anders closed both his hands around that small, warm hand again. For a while, Russell just held on, then he took a deep breath before letting go. He wordlessly curled up with Al in his arms, and following a sudden impulse, Anders pulled up the duvet and tucked him in. 

So maybe he could convince Russ of it; now he needed to convince himself, too.

“Night, Russ.”  
“Night, Anders.”

Anders left again and crawled back into his own bed. 

It wasn’t perfect. It was far from perfect. But it was a start.

* * *

Anders spent most of Sunday morning doing laundry. He had insisted on doing his own – and Russell’s – as he simply couldn’t bear the thought of someone else digging through his dirty underwear, least of all someone who was his sister-in-law and his PA. As he did so, he encountered one of Russell’s shirts that was literally about to fall apart at the seams. He dropped it onto the bed and took it downstairs with him after he was finished to throw it out.

From his position on the sofa, where he was looking at the pictures of the Robin Hood book, Russell saw him come down the stairs and watched as Anders headed for the kitchen, and dropped the book when he saw Anders dispose of the tattered shirt. He knelt on the sofa and looked over the backrest.

“Why did you throw my shirt away?”  
Anders looked up. “Because it was done for?”  
“But...”

Anders, expecting another wardrobe meltdown, felt a sense of impending doom creep up on him. 

Yet Russell looked more perplexed than anything. “But... Can’t you mend it?”  
“Me?” Anders replied with an incredulous little chuckle. “F... uh... hell, no. I can just about put a button back on, that’s it.”  
“Can Dawn?”  
Dawn looked up from what she was doing and cast a nervous glance at Ty who stood next to her. “Russell... that shirt was completely falling apart.”  
“But...”

Dawn and Anders exchanged a wary look.

“Look, I just buy you a new one, okay?” Anders offered.  
Russell scrunched up his nose. “But that’s expensing.”  
“Russ, did your mum repair all your things lots of times?” Dawn asked.  
The boy nodded. “Yes, ‘cause she said buying new things all the time is too expensing.”  
“Expensive,” Anders said before he could stop himself. “Your mum didn’t have much money, did she?”  
Russell shook his head. “It’s okay, though, ‘cause Kevin has money.”  
“And he didn’t buy you clothes?”  
“Yes...” Then he sagged a little. “Sometimes.”

Dawn shook her head and Anders closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Great. Just great. And another topic of conversation to avoid._

After a moment of silence, Dawn cleared her throat and changed the subject. “How are things going with the house hunting?” She asked Anders.  
“I’ve narrowed it down to five,” Anders replied and dropped his hand. “And I start making calls tomorrow to make appointments.”  
“Sounds great.” Dawn smiled at Russell. “Looking forward to having your own place with your dad?”  
Russell shrugged and vanished behind the backrest of the sofa again. 

“I guess he’d rather stay here with you guys,” Anders muttered under his breath.  
“Totally understandable,” Dawn muttered back. “He doesn’t want his life to change again.”  
“And you’re great with him,” he replied slowly, not looking at her. “Sometimes I think the best thing would have been if you two would have just adopted him.”  
“You don’t mean that, do you?”

Anders looked up again, and both Dawn and Ty were looking at him intently, though without accusation.

“Best for you, or for him?” Ty shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  
“For him. I don’t know sweet fuck all about my own life anymore.”  
Dawn shook her head with a sad smile. “I’m flattered about what you think of my mothering skills.”  
“You’d be the best mum ever.”  
“And I’m positive you can be a great father.”  
Anders snorted.  
“No, I mean it. And I’m not just saying this to make you feel better. I know you can be.”  
“Then you know more than I do, Dawnsie.”  
“Didn’t you say to me that I’m always right?” Her smile was bright and wide and sat firmly on her face. 

Anders opened his mouth to reply, but realised he couldn’t think of anything even remotely useful, so he shut it again. 

Dawn’s smile widened even more, then she leaned forward, pecked a kiss onto Anders’s cheek. Then she went back to whatever magic she and Ty were doing in their kitchen that would result in those amazing cupcakes only they were able to produce.

Anders rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, then shook his head for good measure. He couldn’t even say what made him do it, but he walked across the room and around the sofa to sit down. Russell looked up at him from his book. Anders looked back and tried to smile. 

Russell was looking at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, and after a few heartbeats, Anders recognised the feeling in those strangely familiar blue eyes: A desperate wish, a hope against all hopes, and he could all too easily remember that painful yearning for something he didn’t know and couldn’t name back then.  
He knew that look of someone who had been abandoned to fend for himself far too early and just longed for someone to take care of him, make him feel safe again. He remembered that desperate wish for someone to care. He could see the hunger for affection in Russell’s eyes, and he also saw that light of hope slowly vanish as the boy slumped back again.

With a knot the size of a house forming in his stomach, Anders slowly reached out and held out his hand. Russell blinked a few times, and Anders gestured at the book. And with his eyes growing as wide as saucers, Russell handed him the book, the bleak sadness turning into utter adoration as he crawled closer while Anders leafed back to the first page. His self-consciousness and resulting embarrassment almost choked him and he cleared his throat several times. But then he felt Russell lean against him; he looked down again into the boy’s eyes and saw the twist around his lips that looked as if he was almost smiling. 

After deep breath, Anders cleared his throat again, swallowed hard, and lowered his eyes to the pages of the book in his hands. Dawn and Ty were puttering around in the kitchen, producing a backdrop of sounds of utter domesticity. The house was beginning to smell of baking cupcakes.

Anders rolled his shoulders and manned up. “Times were tough in England in the years after the Norman invaders came. They conquered the whole country with fire and sword, they robbed and killed and looted and pillaged and they took the best of everything for themselves.”  
He was beginning to unwind. This wasn’t as bad as he had expected.  
“Then they settled down to rule over the ordinary people, the Saxons, with violence and cruelty and... and scorn...” He faltered a little when Russell rested his head against his arm. “Few dared stand against their might, and those that did rebel were soon crushed, all expect one: a young man the people knew as Robin Hood.”


	15. Chapter 15

Anders spent most of Monday morning on the phone, and Dawn kept Russell occupied with reading and then taking him along when she went shopping.

Taking advantage of the momentary peace and quiet, Anders equipped himself with more coffee after his telephone marathon and got back into one of the two projects that were beginning to teeter on the brink of termination. If he didn’t have something to present by the end of the week, then not only would he have lost two clients, but he also would have to pay reimbursement. They were breathing down his neck by now 24/7 and were a part of the reason why he couldn’t sleep properly.

He wasn’t at it for too long, however, before Dawn and Russell came back. Wishing desperately for some more time, Anders was hard pressed to keep a neutral face when Russell walked over to present him with the spoils: a small punnet full of...

“Are those physalis?”  
Russell nodded. “They’re fruit.”  
“I know,” Anders replied. “Have you tried them before?”  
Russell’s face fell a little as he shook his head.  
“I’m sure you enjoy them,” he went on firmly. “I quite like them myself.”  
The boy’s eyes lit up again and he offered Anders the punnet. “Do you want some?”

Behind him, Dawn just placed the last bags down and watched them with a smile.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Anders said and took two. “Thanks. Enjoy the rest.”

Russell retreated to the sofa and huddled into the corner between armrest and backrest where he cautiously tried one of the physalis, and with his eyes widening, made short work of the rest of them.

Checking on Russell’s progress through the fruit Anders looked up again at one point, expecting to find the sofa littered in leaves, but to his surprise he could only watch Russell put every single shell neatly back into the punnet. He shook his head; it was beyond him how someone with so appalling table manners could be so neat. But then, his Avengers were always lined up against the wall when he wasn’t using them. And that without anyone ever having told him to.

Anders looked back at his screen and remembered how Mike used to needle him back then, when he had had to line up his coloured pencils in a straight row sorted by colour before he could start with drawing something. He felt a smile tug at his lips as he realised it: this was the first time he had discovered something they had in common that was not related to abuse and neglect.   
The smile got comfortable and stayed for a good long while.

After a quick lunch of sandwiches Anders and Russell had to get ready for their first counselling session. Anders was nervous as fuck. Russell seemed excited, but with him, it was hard to tell. 

“Seems like you’re due for a haircut,” Dawn said with a smile as she sorted through Russell’s hair with a comb.  
Russell hunched his shoulders.  
“It’s getting pretty shaggy,” Dawn went on. “It’s starting to get into your eyes, isn’t that bothering you?”  
Russell shrugged mutely and lowered his eyes.

“Russ.” Anders went into a crouch before him. “You gotta talk to us when something’s the matter. We can’t read thoughts, as much as we’d like to.”  
Russell shrugged again.  
“Hey,” Anders tried again. “What’s the problem with a haircut, hm?”  
Russell swallowed hard and bit his lower lip. “The machine makes ugly noises,” he finally whispered, so low that Anders could barely understand.

“Machine? You mean clippers? But why...” Then it dawned on him. “You only ever got buzz cuts, right?”  
“What’s a buzz cut?” Russell was now looking at Anders, but his eyes were dull.  
“A cut that’s really, really short,” Dawn joined in. “With a machine like Anders uses for his beard.”  
This time, Russell nodded. “I don’t like it,” he whispered again, even softer his time.

“That is...” Anders exchanged a mildly concerned look with Dawn. “That is totally understandable.”  
“I think it would be a shame to cut it all off,” Dawn said and ran her hand through Russell’s hair. “Just, you know, trim it back a little. Keep it out of your eyes.”  
“And no machine,” Anders added. “Just a pair of scissors. No ugly noises.”  
“Okay,” Russell whispered, staring at his feet. 

“You look far from okay, though,” Anders said. Technically, they didn’t have time for that nonsense right now, and he wished Dawn hadn’t started it. But then, who would have expected this reaction to a casual remark?  
Russell shrugged again. “I don’t like it.”  
“So... you don’t want a haircut at all?”  
Another shrug was the only answer, but this time, the boy’s shoulders hunched even more.

“Russ...” Anders sighed. “If something’s wrong, you gotta talk to me, otherwise I can’t make it better.” Then he pressed two fingers under Russell’s chin to make the boy look at him. “You don’t want a haircut at all, is it that?”  
Russell’s eyes darted this way and that, and he fidgeted and shuffled his feet, but finally, he shook his head.   
“Because of the clippers?”  
He shook his head again.  
“Then why?” Anders realised he was beginning to sound exasperated.  
Russell mumbled something.  
“I didn’t quite catch that,” Anders replied cautiously.  
It was a whisper, a tiny, frightened and utterly miserable whisper. “I want to have hair like Thor.”

For a split-second, Anders was about to burst with confusion until he realised that he was thinking of the wrong Thor. He cast a quick look at the Avengers next to the fireplace.

“You want to have hair like Thor?” He kept his voice as calm as possible.  
Russell swallowed hard and, upon realising that Anders wasn’t about to throw a fit, he nodded.  
“Well.” Anders straightened up again and rolled his shoulders. “Okay.”

His mouth hanging open, Russell stared up at him. His eyes didn’t fall out of his head, but it was a near thing.

With a smile, Anders straightened the front of his shirt. “You alright, Russ?”  
Russell closed his mouth again and swallowed, then nodded.  
“Ready to go?”  
Another nod.  
“Cat got your tongue?” Anders asked with a wink.   
Russell’s hand darted up to his mouth. “No,” he muttered.  
“Great. Let’s go.” Then Anders looked at Dawn and smiled at her with a twitch of his head. “See you, Dawnsie.”  
Dawn cheerily waved at them. “Have fun!”

* * *

Rose, the therapist, was a friendly woman with a gentle voice and a firm handshake, but their first session wasn’t something to write home about. It was just a relaxed chat about where they presently stood after going through some basic personal information. Russell was locked up in himself the whole time and refused to even look at her. She, on the other hand, wasn’t bothered by it and just accepted his refusal to answer any questions.

“We’ll get there,” she told Anders with a warm smile as they were leaving. “Good bye, Mr Johnson. See you next week.” Smiling at Russell, she offered her hand to him as well. “Bye, Russell. It was great to meet you.”  
Russell still refused to look at her.  
“Good god, Russell, what is wrong with you?” Anders asked.  
Russell clutched Al tighter and, strangely, seemed more angry than intimidated.   
“Russ?”  
“It’s not Horst,” Russell finally blurted out.  
“What the...” Anders cleared his throat. “Horst?” For the second time, it dawned on him what was going on in the boy’s head. “Mahler? You thought this would be Horst Mahler?”

Russell still didn’t look up, but he nodded.

Anders gave the therapist an apologetic look. “Horst Mahler is the child psychologist who was taking care of him back in Wellington. They seemed to get on pretty well and...” He broke off with a shrug.   
“Okay, that explains a lot,” Rose said with a laugh. “I’m sorry to disappoint, Russell. Maybe you can tell me about him next time?”  
Russell shrugged.  
“Bye?”  
After a quick glance at Anders, who kept his face as neutral as possible, Russell looked up at her again. “Bye.”

Rose saw them out with a smile, and back in the car, Anders noticed that Russell was tensing up again. 

“Russ?” Anders asked cautiously, and Russell flinched so violently he lost his grip on Al.  
“Easy...” After picking Al up, Anders dusted him off and handed him back to Russell who was looking at him out of fearful eyes while pressing himself back into the car seat. “Hey. What’s the matter?”  
Russell’s eyes darted away.

Anders was so done with playing guessing games by now, but the only way to make the boy open up was to not pressure him. But that Russell still looked at him as if he was about to sock him in the face bothered Anders more than he could handle sometimes. And that thought immediately made him see daylight again.

After what happened, he obviously expected Anders to have a go at him because of his earlier behaviour. 

“Okay,” he said calmly, and with a smile. “So she’s obviously not Horst. Think you can maybe talk to her next time when you got over the disappointment? I mean, I can understand why, he seemed a great guy.”  
Russell fidgeted in his seat.  
“Do you need the toilet?”  
The boy shook his head.  
“Fine.” Anders closed the door and got into the driver’s seat. “So. You know what? Now, we’re going shopping.”  
Russell bit his lip. “But Dawn already did.”

“I know.” Anders pulled out of the car park. “But I am not going to eat pasta again tonight. Tonight, Anders is making dinner.”

A quick glance in the rear view mirror confirmed his suspicion: Russell couldn’t have looked any more confused.

“Yes, I can cook,” Anders said, finding himself in surprisingly good spirits. “And it is time to introduce you to real food, Russ.”  
“Real food?”  
“Food with more than three ingredients. So you like macaroni cheese. Fine, so do I. But now I’ve had my share of macaroni cheese so tonight, I’m gonna make something that I like. Deal?”  
“Okay,” Russell muttered, obviously unconvinced.

* * *

As it was impossible not to have experienced stressed parents with their kids in stores and supermarkets, Anders had braced himself and prepared for the worst, but to his surprise, Russell proved him wrong. He did not pester. He didn’t even ask stuff. He just clung to the cart and looked around, meek and subdued. Feeling something between irritation and anger, Anders wondered what shopping for groceries meant to him. 

Russell was still and silent the whole time, but his eyes lit up when Anders put another punnet of physalis into the cart. 

The first thing Russell did after coming home was bee-lining for his Avengers. He deposited Al on the sofa and sat down, and both Anders and Dawn watched him, after exchanging a small smile, as he picked up Thor with one hand and kept tugging at his hair with the other.

“It’s going to be awkward and impractical for a good while before anything resembling a ponytail is possible.”  
Anders put the bag onto the kitchen counter and shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. I can always buy him a cap or something.”  
Dawn turned to face him and crossed her arms. “You know,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “You seem to be in an exceptionally good mood today.”

Anders just looked at her for a long moment with raised eyebrows. Then he shrugged and proceeded to empty the bags. 

“What is all that?” Dawn asked, craning her neck.  
“Something that is not pasta,” Anders replied. “I’m making dinner tonight.” Then he lowered his voice. “Was he that silent with you, too? It was creepy.”  
“It was,” Dawn said with a sigh. “He didn’t even look at me when we stood next to the candy bars at the checkout.”  
Anders shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, it makes life so much easier... but I don’t think that’s healthy behaviour.”  
“Well, we do know Russell does have a lot of issues.”  
Anders looked up again, and past her at Russell. “I hear you.”

“But he is already so much better. He talks, and he asks questions, and he seems more relaxed and doesn’t expect a harangue at every opportunity anymore.”  
“I know. It’s just...” He sighed. “I wish I could just fix it. Or anyone, really.”  
“Me too.” Dawn looked at Russell again who was lost in his own world, together with the Avengers. “But you’re getting somewhere. You’re both making progress.”

Anders just hoped she wouldn’t bring up the topic of Saturday night, but Dawn, always the soul of tact, acted like that night never happened.

“So,” Dawn said and looked over the things Anders had unpacked, thus deftly changing the subject. “What’s for dinner, then?”  
“Not Pasta.”  
“I figured that, yes.”  
Anders looked up at her with a smile. “Let’s just say something for the refined palate. I am so done with what people call children’s food. I mean, how are they supposed to like proper food when they’re never exposed to it?”

Dawn let her eyes roam over the assembled ingredients Anders had bought. “I think you’re maybe taking this a bit...”  
“Worth a try,” Anders interrupted her cheerfully while equipping himself with a knife. “If he doesn’t like it, there’s pasta left in the fridge.”  
“You know what? You’re right,” Dawn gave back with a bright smile. “I am so excited now!” Then she frowned. “Vanilla?”  
Anders flourished the knife and smiled. “Trust me.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The food is real, that is, I took it from a cookbook of which the title translates into something like _Real Food for Real Men_ , Section _Spoil your Lover._

To everyone’s big surprise (and Anders’s satisfaction) Russell had, after initial scepticism, polished off the scallops with vanilla roasted croutons and then made short work of fried calf’s liver and mashed potatoes, leaving only the sautéed onions.

“Anders, I’m impressed,” Dawn said as she put her fork down. “I never thought... well, sorry. I guess it’s a standard bachelor cliché.”  
Anders chuckled as he headed back to the kitchen. “I’m sure as with all clichés, they exist for a reason.”

“What are you doing now?” Russell asked, watching in fascination as Anders produced a bag of frozen strawberries.  
“Lightning strawberry ice cream.”  
“What?”

Anders poured the frozen strawberries into the blender, added a generous amount of double cream and two cups full of icing sugar. 

“Lightning strawberry ice cream.”  
Russell was utterly confused. “Why lightning?”

Anders switched the blender on and quickly turned everything into a smooth mass. He scraped that into a bowl and put it onto the table with a flourish. 

“Because it’s fast as lightning.”  
“Anders,” Dawn said slowly. “You’re a genius.  
“No, whoever made that cookbook was a genius.”  
“A cookbook?” Dawn’s eyebrows almost rose into her hairline.

“A cookbook,” Anders gave back. “After moving into my flat, I got bored of Thai and pizza pretty quick, and the best I could do was lasagne. So I bought cookbooks.”  
“I... I never thought you would... do cookbooks.” Ty shook his head with a crooked smile.  
“I don’t do cookbooks, you egg. I read them.”  
Ty almost choked and dropped the spoon. “Jesus, Anders, don’t do that when I’m eating.”

“You seem to be in a really good mood today,” Dawn said, for the second time that evening.  
Anders shrugged. “Not sure how long it’ll last until the next meltdown, but for now...” He lifted his wine glass. “Thank you.”

Smiling, both Dawn and Ty returned the toast.

* * *

Anders couldn’t help but notice that Russell was looking at the mirror way more often than he usually did. He kept tilting his head and turned it this way and that, and the corners of his mouth crinkled the tiniest bit. Since he had yet to see Russell smile, Anders was happy about every little step into that direction.

“You always had very short hair, didn’t you?”  
Russell stopped looking at the mirror and shrugged. “It’s easiest.”  
“Who said that? Kevin?”  
“No, Mum.” Russell hunched his shoulders. “She said because I’m a boy and it’s easiest. And Kevin did it, with his machine.” 

A tiny shudder ran through the boy at the memory of what he had earlier called ‘ugly noises’ and his eyes darted to the clippers Anders used for trimming his beard. 

“Okay.” Anders gestured at him with the toothbrush and made a mental note to keep them out of sight for the time being. “That thing is for my beard and nothing else, even if it makes ugly noises. I’m not gonna stop shaving, I just look like a dwarf if I do.”

There it was again, the tiny crinkle. And at that moment, Anders took the challenge. He was going to make that boy smile, no matter what. 

With Russell tucked in, Anders sat down at the edge of the mattress and looked down on the boy who was watching him with those big, solemn eyes. And suddenly, one of his hands sneaked out from under the blanket and reached for one of Anders’s. With a smile that was only a little strained, Anders closed his fingers around Russell’s.

“Anders?”   
“Yes?”  
Russell bit his lower lip, but didn’t take his eyes off Anders’s face.  
“What is it?” Anders squeezed the boy’s fingers.  
“Can you... can you make dinner again tomorrow?”  
Anders couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “If you help do the dishes.”  
His eyes wide, Russell nodded quickly. 

Anders left the room with a warm, pleasant feeling of accomplishment. And even though he cried again that night, Russell calmed down almost instantly when Anders took his hand, and he fell asleep again quickly. Thinking of his own father, Anders settled back into his own bed.

_It’s not perfect. I know it isn’t. And probably, it will never be. But you didn’t even try._

Johann sneered at him, but for once, didn’t reply.

* * *

Anders took Russell along to look at the houses, but the first two they looked at were pretty disappointing. The third was okay, but Anders wasn’t convinced, and neither was Russell, to judge by the way he looked around and was more or less glued to Anders’s leg the whole time. The fourth one was even worse than the first two, and that left only the fifth one; the one Anders had only put on his list to do Russell a favour. The white one that was far too big.

Upon entering the house however, Anders had to admit that it looked even better than on the pictures. The agent showing them around noticed the change in Anders’s mood and livened up, but his words of praise were lost on Anders who knew how to see through overdone advertising. He let him talk while he looked at the rooms, and found to his dismay that this was the one he liked best. It still was too big, though. He would have to engage in another search.

It was then that he realised that no one was clinging to his trouser leg.

As he walked down the stairs again, Anders felt a little outmanoeuvred. He could see Russell now, he was sitting on the carpet close to the dining area, busy with both Iron Man and Al, and completely comfortable. 

Somehow, Russell and the house seemed to have ganged up on him.

He was still opposed to buying a house that size and at that price, even if it had a great view over Mission Bay, and despite the fact that the smallest of the bedrooms had the perfect size for a home office. And while it had a very nice terrace outside, there wasn’t really any garden around it, just a small area of lawn that Axl surely could be convinced to mow for a reasonable compensation.

Anders pinched the bridge of his nose with a small groan of defeat.

When he opened his eyes again, he found Russell look up at him with something like imploration in his eyes.

“Al likes the house,” he said in a tiny voice.  
“Seems like he’s not the only one,” Anders replied with a sigh.

* * *

When they came back after looking at the houses, a fruitless search because not one of them was suitable for them, Axl was visiting and greeted them with a hearty grin.

“How’s it going, man?” He asked Anders.  
“Not too bad, actually,” Anders replied and straightened the front of his jacket.   
“Found a house yet?”

Anders could feel Russell, who was hiding behind his legs, tense up. 

“Well,” he said slowly. “The one we liked best is pretty big, and really...” Russell tensed even more. “I... I have to think about it.”   
“Great! Sounds great!” Axl craned his neck so he could look around Anders’s legs at Russ. “And how’s it going with my favourite nephew?”  
“Okay,” Russell muttered. “Al likes the white house, but Anders says it’s too big.”  
“Hey! Maybe Anders can marry someone nice and you can...”  
“Axl.” Anders cleared his throat.  
“...have lots of brothers and sisters!” Axl finished brightly.

Anders looked down at Russell. Russell just looked confused.

“Change of topic,” Anders said firmly.   
“You started your therapy yet?”  
“It’s not really therapy, it’s more... counselling.” Anders gave Axl a stern look with raised eyebrows. “And yes, we had the first session yesterday, but nothing happened yet.”  
“And how’s the therapist? Creepy bugger with thick glasses?”

“No.” Anders leaned against the kitchen counter after Russell had peeled himself from his legs and headed for the sofa. “She’s a woman, actually, and seems okay.”  
“A woman?” Axl’s grin widened. “Is she hot?”  
Anders blinked, and crossed his arms. “What?”  
“Is she hot?” Axl repeated. “Your therapist,” he went on, as if talking to an idiot. “You said she’s a woman, so... is she hot?”

Dropping his arms, Anders shook his head as if he had to dislodge something from his ears. “The fu... what the hell? She’s my freaking therapist, Axl! What kind of freak do you think I am? Rose? Hot? As if I care how she looks like! She’s...” And then he broke off.

Both Axl and Ty were looking at him with moronic little grins.

“Jesus Christ in a bottle,” Anders said slowly. “Did I just say that?”

Axl and Ty nodded, the moronic smiles softening into something more compassionate. 

Anders headed for the sofa with heavy steps, fell down and, after propping his elbows up on his knees, buried his face in his hands.

“I have been neutered,” he muttered into his palms. “Christ, what is happening to me?”  
Ty sat down beside him. “Paternal instincts,” he said in a soothing voice. “Maybe it’ll pass.”  
Anders lifted his head; it looked as if it weighed a ton. “Stop making fun of me.”  
“I wasn’t making fun of you.” Ty closed a hand around Anders’s shoulder. “I’m just trying to help you see the positive side. You’ll be able to focus properly without your dick distracting you.”

“Ty!” Dawn called over from the kitchen. “Language!”

All three of them, Axl, Anders and Ty, hastily looked at Russell who had been momentarily forgotten sitting in front of the fireplace and was now watching them with his face scrunched up in confusion.

“You know what a dick is, Russ?” Anders asked, ignoring Dawn’s scandalized hiss.  
Russell nodded, still no less confused, and pointed at his crotch.  
“See.” Anders leaned back. “No harm done if he already knew.”

Russell was looking up at them blinking like an owl; he clearly couldn’t make a connection and didn’t have a clue what Anders’s dick would have to do with Rose. 

“But it’s in your trousers and Rose can’t see it, can she?”

The room went so deadly silent you could have heard a pin drop from a mile away.

After clearing his throat, Anders looked helplessly at his brothers. Axl looked as helpless, and Ty just shrugged. 

“Uhm.” Anders scratched his chin. “Dicks can be weird little creatures.”  
Russell nodded. “Mine sometimes points the wrong way,” he said in childish graveness. 

Axl’s hardly suppressed snort in the dead silence sounded as if someone farted in a church.

Anders dropped his head onto the backrest of the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “You’ve got a lot to learn yet, Russ. And all the time in the world to do it.”  
“Okay,” Russell muttered and after a moment’s hesitation, turned away to continue to play.


	17. Chapter 17

On Thursday morning Anders and Russell made their first trip to Kohimarama School. It so happened to be only a few minutes’ drive away from the white house that was still too big and not appropriate. 

Anders was still pretending to look at other properties. He guessed it would be some time during the weekend that he would give up.

But first he had to convince Russell that neither teachers nor other kids were dangerous creatures. He had, patiently and at length, explained to Russell that there was no choice about going to school, and that he himself had to get back to work. And now he was trying to have a chat with the principal while Russell was clinging to his legs and hid his face in his jacket. 

You didn’t have to be a genius to notice that Russell was a child of somewhat special needs. 

The principal offered Russell a book, and equipped with that he settled into a corner after they had followed her into her office.

“You mentioned in your email that your situation is somewhat out of the ordinary,” the principal said with a smile and gestured at a chair.   
Anders sat down and took a deep breath. “How much time do you have?”  
“All the time you need,” was the friendly reply.

So Anders explained in detail what had transpired these last weeks, from the first letter of the Ministry of Justice to his current endeavour to build a new life with his son. 

“He has been through quite a lot,” the principal said as she looked at the notes she had made. “The transition is not going to be easy for him.”  
“I know.”  
She nodded slowly with tight lips. “I will call a meeting with the teachers of his class, and also have the school counsellor present so everyone is aware of the his situation.”

After shifting in his seat again, Anders nodded. He felt awful for moving as fast as this, but he really didn’t have a choice. He also had a hard time to focus; he had sacrificed the last three nights of sleep to cobble something together with which to pacify the two companies breathing down his neck, but it had been a near thing. He didn’t want to have a bad conscience about being happy that he would have more time without the boy from now on.

They settled the remainder of the paperwork and left the office again. 

x-x-x

Anders accompanied Russell to the classroom the next Monday, and Russell looked terrified of the other children. The teacher welcomed him friendly and the other kids were more than happy and ridiculously excited about having a new classmate. That didn’t make feel Russell any better, though. He slunk into the free chair the teacher pointed at, next to a girl with blonde hair who flashed him a gap-toothed grin.

There was nothing for it. Anders had to leave again, and he could feel Russell’s desolate, frightened stare bore into his back. 

When he came back that afternoon to pick Russell up again he expected him to be somewhere in a corner with a teacher, a possibility he and the principal had talked about, as a solution for situations when Russell might have an anxiety attack. 

But Russell was nowhere to be seen. Anders found the principal and asked her.

“Looks like he’s still out on the playground,” the principal told Anders with a small laugh. “I find him for you.”

It turned out he was outside in the sandbox with a girl of the same age, and as Anders emptied Russell’s shoes after getting him into the car he noticed that there was a little more light in the boy’s eyes. And there it was again, that expression as if he meant to smile and had somehow forgotten how to, or maybe didn’t quite dare yet. And Anders was comforted by the sight, because it meant that Russell might be able to handle the abrupt change better than he had initially believed.

“So, who was that girl you were playing with?” He asked Russell after he had started the engine.  
“Emma.”  
“Is she nice?”  
In the mirror, he could see Russell nod.   
“So it’s maybe not so bad in school?”  
Russell shrugged, but his expression was far from being as unhappy as it had been when Anders had mentioned school for the first time.  
“Think she could be your friend?”  
Another shrug.   
“I’m sure it’ll be ace. You can make lots of friends.”  
“Okay.” 

It didn’t sound really convinced, but it didn’t sound scared either. Deciding that this was as good as it would get for now, Anders let it rest and settled for a change of topic. 

“Would you like to meet my fish?”  
“Fish?” Russell was suddenly alert and all ears.  
“Yeah. I told you I have fish, didn’t I? Do you want to see them?”  
He could see Russell nod enthusiastically. “Oh yes! Yes, please!”

Smiling to himself, Anders shifted gears and headed for his old place that wasn’t home anymore.

* * *

Russell moved as if he was walking on eggshells after entering the apartment, and as Anders had a look around he noticed that a fine layer of dust had begun to settle on the surfaces. And in a strange mixture of dismay and melancholy he realised that cleaning them wouldn’t be worth it anymore. Within the next weeks he would have a moving company come here to box up his stuff, and he had already set up an appointment with a real estate agent for an evaluation so he could put it up for sale. 

It hurt. And it was a relief. He needed to get rid of this place with no chance of turning back to be able to move on.

Russell was even more quiet than usual and Anders turned around to find him glued to the fish tank, pressing his nose against the glass. Smiling, he bent down as well beside him and smiled at his fish.

“Hey buddy,” he said softly as the large golden one darted out of the shelter of the plants. “How’s it going? Miss me much?”  
“Do they have names?” Russell asked in a breathless whisper.

Anders slowly turned his head to look at him. Russell’s face was lit up in sheer awe and adoration, his eyes wide with delight. 

“They are so pretty...”  
“They are, aren’t they?” Anders looked back at his fish and tried to imagine seeing them with Russell’s eyes. The shiny eyes, the shimmering scales, the elegant swing of tail fins, the guppies glittering like small jewels. “And no, they don’t have names. Maybe I should change that.”

“The big one should be Lion,” Russell breathed. “’Cause he’s big and golden, just like a lion.”  
“I like that,” Anders gave back, discovering it wasn’t silly or awkward in the slightest to have this conversation. He actually quite liked to think of his buddy as the Golden Lion. “What about the guppies?”  
Russell bit his lower lip. “There’s a lot.”  
“I know,” he chuckled. “Maybe we call them ‘The Guppies’. Kind of like a band.”  
“How many are there?”  
“Nine at present.”  
“Are they boys or girls?”  
“I haven’t got the slightest clue who is what. They breed, though, so there’s both.”

“They kinda look like jewels,” Russell whispered, his breath fogging the glass for a heartbeat.   
“You know, that’s an idea,” Anders replied. “We just name them like jewels.”  
Russell frowned and blinked a few times. “But how are you going to know which one is called what?”  
“Maybe we just toss the names at them and let them pick one each?”  
The frown vanished.   
“How many jewels do you know?”  
“Diamond.” The frown was back.

“That’s one down,” Anders said. “Emerald, Ruby, Sapphire... four... uhm.” His knowledge of gemstones wasn’t something to write home about either, so he took his phone and did a quick search. After looking at various pictures they settled for Jade, Turquoise, Garnet, Amethyst and Jet. 

Russell seemed very pleased, and Anders could see that almost-smile again.   
It was like having to sneeze and not being able to. 

“Are they going to move in with us?” Russell asked.  
“What? Of course they do! They’re my buddies.”  
The crinkles around Russell’s mouth tightened.   
“And we can get a bigger tank and have a few more.”  
The boy’s eyes lit up even more, but the facial expression stayed the same otherwise. 

When they left again, after Russell had been allowed to feed the fish – and Anders had been sure for a moment that now, he would finally smile, but no, not yet – Anders announced that he would make dinner again. Russell clutched Al tighter, his eyes full of anticipation and excitement.

* * *

They had just crossed the dairy aisle and were on their way towards the checkout when they encountered a stressed mother with a toddler who was having a classical fit right out of the textbook. She had thrown herself to the floor and was kicking and screaming while her poor mother alternately tried pleading and threatening to make her shut up. 

Anders passed the scene by as fast as possible, and in his haste to get out of earshot he didn’t notice that Russell had been frozen to the spot. It took him all of two more aisles, due to the fact that Russell was always so silent, to discover that he had lost the boy. 

Muttering a few choice curses under his breath he hurried back to where the toddler had thrown her fit, but Russell wasn’t there anymore either. 

“Shit,” he whispered. “Russ?” 

He hurried around the shelf and peered down the next aisle. “Russell?” 

Nothing. Anders ran both hands through his hair and tried to stay calm. It wasn’t that he was worried something would happen to the boy, he was worried about Russell’s reaction to having gotten lost in unfamiliar surroundings. 

“Russell!” 

After rounding another corner he passed an elderly man with a Zimmer frame who hailed him. 

“Sir, you looking for a little boy?”  
“I am.”   
“Passed one just now, looked a little lost, just across where the bread is.”  
“Thank you very much.”

Anders was almost running when he had reached the aisle with bread and cereals, and there he was, clutching Al to his chest with wide and fearful eyes, his face white and wet with tears. 

“Russ!” Anders put the basket down and hurried to his side. “You okay?”  
“Sorry,” Russell sobbed. “I’m sorry...”  
“Hey, it’s okay,” Anders said as calmly as he could. “It’s okay. I found you. I got you.”  
“I’m sorry...” Russ was shaking. “I’m sorry.... I’m sorry...”

After a deep breath, Anders went down into a crouch and closed both his hands around the boy’s shoulders. “Russ. Look at me. Just look at me, okay?”  
Russell swallowed hard and finally forced his eyes into focus again. Tears were still running down his cheeks.  
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. That... that just happened. I’m sorry I didn’t pay more attention to you. Okay? Nothing happened. I’m not angry or anything.”

Russell began to calm and his breathing turned from hiccupping sobs into fast breaths that began to slow down.

Anders wished feverishly for a simple solution to all of Russell’s issues. A kid shouldn’t be that scared, or more like terrified, when getting lost in a supermarket. Russell really shouldn’t be afraid to go shopping with him. And here they had been doing so well that day until now. Anders felt his frustration almost choke him, and not for the first time he felt the urge to buy two plane tickets to Wellington, find McInnis and let Axl lose on him.

And what was there to do, really, to avoid something like this happening again? He didn’t want Russell to cling to his leg the whole time. He didn’t want the boy to be so afraid. How could he make him not so afraid anymore? 

But being as his brain was at its best when thinking under pressure, the solution to their current problem that suddenly presented itself was as simple as it was effective.

“Okay, Russ, listen to me. Here’s what we do.”  
Russell swallowed and wiped a hand across his nose.   
“If this happens again, then you don’t have to be afraid. Just... don’t go look for me, okay? We could be running past each other like ten times or something. So if you get lost, just go to where the fruits are, okay? Just go and find... find the bananas. Find the bananas, and wait for me there, and I’ll come and find you at the bananas. That’s easy, right?”

After another wet snuffle, Russell nodded and wiped his hand across his nose again. With an inward sigh Anders produced a pack of Kleenex, took one out and dried Russell’s tears before wiping his nose, and then slipped the used tissue back into his pocket. Apparently, humans could get used to everything.

“Okay.” Anders got up and held out his hand to Russell who took it. Closing his fingers around the boy’s Anders took a deep breath. “You know what moussaka is, Russ?”  
Russell shook his head and Anders smiled down at him. “You’re in for a treat, then.”  
“Okay.”

Apparently, after his experience with scallops and calf’s liver, at least the prospect of Anders’s cooking wasn’t scaring the boy anymore.


	18. Chapter 18

The first week in school was so exhausting for Russell that he fell asleep in the car on his way home every single day. Anders carried him inside and wrapped him into a blanket before depositing him on the sofa, and the boy was hardly able to get some dinner down before bedtime. 

But to be honest, Anders wasn’t that far better off. After finally getting into a proper schedule again he worked like a maniac to get everything done; getting up at five each day to do some work before the school run and staying up late each day after Russell had been tucked in. 

And for some reason Anders couldn’t fathom, Russell’s nightly panic attacks worsened considerably during that week, despite his tiredness. He would wake up with violent sobs and it took him over an hour to calm down, and that didn’t help with the general exhaustion, of course. Both Ty and Dawn were out of their depths, and Anders was not only at his wit’s end but also reaching the end of his tether again. To his own mortification he was actually all too happy to drag himself into the first counselling session on Friday afternoon.

Rose listened to his accounts of the nightly panic attacks with a grave face. Then she faced Russell and her voice was very gentle and very soft as she spoke. 

“Russell, can you tell what scares you?”

Russell hunched his shoulders. Rose waited patiently. 

“I’m scared,” he finally whispered.   
“Do you have bad dreams?”  
Russell curled up into himself. “I’m scared,” he whispered again.

Rose leaned back and smiled soothingly at Anders before addressing the boy again.

“And when you’re scared, what happens when Anders comes in?”  
This time, Russell shrugged. 

Anders was about to mention that this kind of shrug was code for ‘I know the answer but I’m too scared to say’ but remembered he was dealing with a professional, so he kept his mouth shut and tried to look as unthreateningly as possible.

“So when you wake up and you’re scared, and Anders comes in, does it get better or worse?”  
“Better,” was the whispered reply.  
“And what does he do?”  
Russell looked imploringly up at Anders.  
Feeling Rose’s eyes on him, Anders crossed his arms. “She asked you, buddy, not me.”

Russell dropped his head and clutched Al even more tightly to his chest. “He sits down on the bed.”  
“And what does he do then?”  
“Takes my hand.” 

It was hardly audible anymore; Anders almost couldn’t hear what he had said and he was sitting right next to the boy. How Rose could have understood it was beyond him. 

“And when he sits next to you and takes your hand, you get less scared?”  
Russell nodded, hardly perceptibly.   
“And does he say anything?”  
“He says it’s going to be okay,” Russell muttered, so hunched over now that his voice was muffled by Al’s furry back.   
“And is it going to be okay?”  
Russell closed his eyes and shrugged.

Rose leaned back and pressed her lips together thoughtfully. After a moment, she looked at Anders with a small smile. 

“I guess it doesn’t come as a surprise when I say that Russell has trust issues.”  
Anders smiled crookedly.  
“And it’s not surprising either that this goes very deep.” 

She picked up her pencil and looked at the papers before her for a moment before looking up at Anders again. 

“Apart from taking his hand when he’s scared, do you touch him a lot?”

Feeling like a deer in the headlight, Anders resisted the urge to adjust a tie he wasn’t wearing. But her voice was gentle and completely devoid of blame or accusation. 

“Do you touch him at all?”   
“Not... a lot,” Anders finally admitted. “I... uhm. We’re both not really comfortable with it.”  
“No, you wouldn’t be yet,” she replied. “May I ask how that was handled in your own family when you were a child?” 

It wasn’t that Anders hadn’t expected this to come up. He had been dreading it, and had tried to prepare himself for it, but now it was already being dragged out and he wasn’t ready. Most likely, he would never be.

“What about your father?” Rose ventured again. “Did he touch you a lot?”  
“Only to give me the back of his hand,” Anders said before he could stop himself. He dragged a hand down his face.

“I see,” Rose said into the uncomfortable silence. “That makes a lot of sense, actually.”  
“It does?” Anders looked up at her again.  
“It does,” she replied with a smile. “You very obviously want to give your son what you never had, but you don’t know how, because you... well. You never had it.”  
Anders could only shrug.

Rose made some notes, leafed through some pages of previous notes, and nodded to herself a couple of times. 

“Okay,” she finally said. “Here is what we need to do.” She looked first at Anders, then at Russell who had by now uncurled enough for his face to be visible again. “Obviously I am not a fairy godmother who can wave a magic wand and make everything better. Sadly. We need to work on that. If you want this to be okay, you both will have to work for it. But it will be worth it in the end.”

Anders looked down at Russell, and Russ looked up at him. Their eyes met for a split second before they both hastily looked away again.

“Right,” Rose said. “Come with me.”

They followed her down the corridor into another room. There wasn’t a desk in there, and no furniture other than a couple of beanbags. There were boxes with toys, however, a few yoga balls in different colours and sizes and a few large mats, one of which Rose now unrolled before asking both Anders and Russell to take off their shoes and kneel down facing each other.

Rose sat down next to them. “You both are not really comfortable around each other, and that is totally okay. You hardly know each other. You are still almost strangers. You are father and son, but you have just met, so it’s okay to feel like that.”

She adjusted her position. “Now Russell, this is important.”   
Russell looked anxiously up at her.  
“We do this so you will feel better. So if something happens that is not good, that feels bad or scary, you can tell us, okay? No one will be angry if it goes slow or if we have to do the same thing many times. It’s okay to feel scared. And it’s okay to say so.”  
Russell nodded, but didn’t look any less anxious.

“So.” Rose looked at Russell with a calming smile. “You said when Anders takes your hand it makes you feel better, right?”  
Russell nodded again.  
“So I’d like you to give him your hand.”

Russell swallowed, and slowly held out his hand. After receiving a nod from Rose, Anders reached out and took it. 

“Can you tell me how that feels, Russell?”  
“Okay,” he whispered.  
“Can you give Anders your other hand?”

After hesitating for a moment, Russell held out his other hand as well, and Anders took it into his other hand. 

“It’s okay, but it’s not really comfortable, is it?” Rose smiled gently. “So that is the first step. You have to get used to it before it can be comfortable. Kind of like a new pair of shoes. So you just hold on, as long as you can. You don’t even have to look at each other. Just feel each other’s hands.”

Sitting there on a yoga mat with his shoes off, Anders was again bitten by doubts about his sanity. This was so absurd he couldn’t even laugh anymore. But he also knew that being allowed to feel uncomfortable wasn’t going to solve anything, especially not the nightly panic attacks. And if being instructed about how to hold hands could cut back his sleep deprivation, then he would have to bite the bullet and do it.

It was when Russell began to fidget that Rose told them they could let go. The boy hastily grabbed Al and closed both arms around him as soon as Anders had let go of his hands.

“So, Russ?”  
Russell looked up slowly.  
“Was it scary, holding Anders’s hands?”  
He shook his head.  
“Did it feel okay?”  
This time he shrugged.  
“Do you think you can do it again?”

After a long moment of hesitation, Russell curled up and shook his head.

“That’s fine. You did very well for the first time.”

At that, Russell looked up again, his anxiety turning into confusion. He cast a hasty glance at Anders who did his best to smile calmly. After another moment Russell visibly relaxed a little, but he didn’t let go of Al.

“This is a matter of practise, right now. And the more you practise, the better it will get. You will get used to it, the touching, and then you can get comfortable. But it is important, because touching is part of familiarity, of closeness.” These last words were addressed at Anders. “Nothing can just make you fall in love with your son, Anders. But what we do here will help you feel like a family and not like coincidentally cohabiting strangers.”  
Anders nodded and swallowed. “I guess that is as good as it gets.”  
“Not necessarily,” Rose replied with a smile. “It doesn’t have to stop there. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We need to start with baby steps. So I just task you with trying to repeat what we did here today as many times as possible. And I suggest we reschedule our meetings from once to twice a week, at least for the beginning. Do you think that is possible?”

Anders licked his lips. “It’s... I’ve got a lot of catching up at work to do. But...” He looked at Russell who looked up at him when he felt Anders’s eyes on him. “I figure something out.”

* * *

After leaving the building, Anders exhaled in a heavy huff of breath. Beside him, Russell sighed in relief as well and despite everything, Anders couldn’t suppress a small smile.

“Well, that wasn’t the most... you know, it could actually have been worse.” 

He looked down at Russell, and Russell looked up at him. 

“Anders?” The boy asked after a moment’s silence.  
“Hm?”  
“Can we go visit the fish again?”

Anders couldn’t suppress a smile. “Sure thing,” he said. “Want to grab a doughnut on the way?”  
Russell’s eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically.  
“Great.” He offered Russell his hand. 

Russell looked at the hand, then up at Anders’s face. Then he took the offered hand, and Anders managed to wink at him before they headed towards the car park.


	19. Chapter 19

If Dawn hadn’t acted as their watchdog, Russell and Anders wouldn’t have gotten much of the touching done. But since Anders had told her what their last session had been about, she kept on reminding them several times a day to do their exercises. 

It was annoying as fuck. 

If Anders had ever had any reason to act like a responsible adult, it would be now. It should have been him in charge of all this, and not Dawn pestering him into it like a mother. And the most annoying part was not that Dawn was pestering him, but that she had to do it at all. He should have been able to man up and do it, but he tried to weasel out of it instead, even though he wanted to be exactly where this was supposed to lead. Russell wasn’t keen on that business either, which made matters only worse. 

But other than that, Anders managed to establish some sort of daily routine. It started with breakfast and getting out of the house, then he dropped Russell off and went to work. In the afternoon it was picking him up again, heading home and getting some food into the boy before he was put to bed.

It was two weeks after Russell’s first day in kindergarten that the moving company had finished boxing up the contents of Anders’s apartment, and what remained was Anders having to take care of moving the fish. 

He had one last look around in the now empty flat in the knowledge that the only things left now were memories and nothing more. Time to move on. There wasn’t anything else, really.

One suit of armour down.

And since all of his furniture couldn’t even fill half of the house, he indulged himself in buying a bigger fish tank, together with a few more guppies and a pair of catfish.

A trip to IKEA to buy furniture for Russell’s room had the boy so overwhelmed that he was unable to pick anything, so Anders kept making suggestions that Russell mutely agreed to, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide. Next item on the agenda was the issue of finding some furniture for the living room and the home office. In the end, they had filled the whole loading space of Mike’s pick-up with boxes and the whole boot of Anders’s car with all sorts of other stuff and assorted bric-a-brac that Anders hoped would turn the empty house into something resembling a family home. 

With all of his brothers, Dawn, Michelle and Olaf helping to get everything into place it didn’t take more than a single day to get the house sorted and ready to move in. For some strange reason, both Mike and Ty were fluent in IKEA and were in charge of the furniture, so things progressed quickly and smoothly. And after a dinner of pizza ordered home, they all left again after wishing Russell and Anders a good first night in their new domicile. 

Ty and Dawn were the last to leave, and before they headed out of the door, Ty and Anders spent a long time in a tight embrace. 

“I can’t thank you two enough,” Anders said as he stepped back. “I would never have made it through the last weeks without you.”  
“That’s what we promised,” Dawn replied gently and took one of Anders’s hands. “We all wanted this to work out. Just promise me you won’t let your progress go to waste, so please don’t forget about the touching.”  
Anders pressed his lips together. “I’ll do my best,” he said after a moment. “Oh, and before I forget...” He dug into a pocket and handed Ty a spare key. “In case of emergency. You never know.”  
Ty took the key and slipped it into his wallet. “Sure thing. Don’t hesitate to give us a shout when things go tits up. Or rather, before they do.”

Anders managed a smile at that. “I hold you to that.”  
“Please do,” Dawn said firmly. “I know it can be hard to ask for help, but...”  
“I know, Dawnsie.” This time, the smile was real. “And I really appreciate it.”

Then Dawn went down into a crouch in front of Russell. “It’s all going to be fine,” she said with a smile. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’ll be all sorted in no time, you’ll see.”  
“Okay.” Russell looked at her with something close to despair in his eyes. 

It was then that Anders realised that Dawn was the closest thing to a mother that he had, and that leaving her must hurt and scare him badly. And he desperately wished he had the means to comfort him, but as it was, he could only do what he had done so far: trying his best to get over himself and work on being able to act, and maybe think, like a father. He watched Dawn hug the boy with a lump in his throat. He hadn’t even tried to do that, and for some reason was convinced that Russell didn’t want it. But seeing Dawn hug him so tightly and place a kiss onto the top of his head caused a lot of unfamiliar and uncomfortable feelings.

Another last farewell, and Anders closed the door behind them. He could hear the engine of their car, and turned around to look at Russell. 

“You okay, Russ?” Anders went into a crouch. “I know you miss Dawn and Ty. So do I, actually. But we can’t stay at their place forever. But at least this is the house you and Al liked best, right?”  
Russell nodded. “It’s nice.”  
“And we’re not really alone, you see. Your uncles and Cousin Olaf and Auntie Dawn are only a phone call away. I’m sure we can visit Ty and Dawn anytime you want.”  
The boy nodded again. 

For reasons of balance, Anders then lowered himself onto his knees and reached out, and after a moment’s hesitation, Russell put Al down and took the offered hands. 

“We get this sorted, Russ.”  
For a short moment, Russell looked up and met Anders’s eyes. “Okay.”  
“Really?”  
Russell nodded. He didn’t look very convincing, though.

* * *

Anders hadn’t expected anything else, so when Russell’s nightly attacks got even worse it didn’t come as a surprise. But since the only way to get a grip on these was to do as Rose said, he kicked himself in the arse and worked hard on getting over himself and offer Russell his hands as often as he could. Still, it took two more weeks until he could feel the first changes in him. Noticed him being less tense. Found the boy look up at him for more than a split second. 

Rose was pleased with their progress, and told them they were now ready for the next step. Trust building, she called it. But the first time turned out a disaster of epic proportions.

Russell was supposed to stand now while Anders was still kneeling, and he was to hold Russell’s hands while the boy leaned backwards, holding on to Anders’s hands. It was supposed to help the boy learn to trust and to rely on Anders, but the first attempt ended in a panic attack and reduced Russell to a heap of misery and tears. 

Watching him and trying to calm him with rubbing his back, Anders felt Rose’s eyes on him and also felt like the biggest failure in the world. When Russell had finally calmed down somewhat, Rose gently but firmly prodded him into letting Anders take his hands again, and proceeded to show them some breathing exercises that could prevent the boy from going under like that again. 

“Now,” she said after she was satisfied about Russell’s recovery. “Can we try that again, Russell?”  
Russell shook his head.  
After taking a deep breath, Anders forced himself to hold out his hands. “It’s going to be okay, Russ. I got you. I promise I got you.” And he discovered that he wanted this. All of a sudden, he wanted this, wanted this more than anything else. 

Maybe this was him beginning to think like a father. He just wanted the boy to feel better. He wanted Russell to trust him. He wanted Russell to feel safe again. “I got you,” he said again, as firmly as he could.

Swallowing hard, Russell took the offered hands, and Anders could feel how cold and clammy these small and fragile hands were as he closed his fingers around them. 

Russell tugged at Anders’s hands, and Anders tightened his muscles as hard as he could. He didn’t have the steel biceps that Ty or Mike had, but it was enough to hold a small boy who felt as if his bones were made of porcelain. 

Another tug at his hands, and Anders could see that Russell closed his eyes and leaned back. It wasn’t more than an inch or two, and it didn’t last longer than two or three seconds before Russell tore his hands away and stumbled back. 

“Very well done,” Rose said, her face bright and her voice warm. “That was amazing, Russell. You’re doing so well, I am so very proud of you.” Then she pointedly looked at Anders.  
“Yeah. I’m proud, too.” Anders nervously licked his lips. “That was impressive, and I’m really proud of you. And you can be proud of yourself, too.”

Russell looked back and forth between the two, and it was apparent that he didn’t believe a word of what they were saying. He wordlessly sat down, picked up Al and held him tightly while curling forward again. 

“He doesn’t believe me,” Anders said in a low voice.  
“He will eventually,” Rose gave back. “Give it time.”

Anders thought that he had given a lot of things a lot of time already without any noticeable improvement, but he kept that thought to himself. 

It was when he strapped Russell into the car seat that he noticed the boy look at him with an expression he had never seen before, one that he was unable to identify.

“You all right?”  
Russell didn’t reply, he didn’t even shrug; he just kept on looking at Anders for a moment longer before he lowered his eyes. 

Trying to keep his disappointment at bay, Anders put on a bright face during dinner that evening and inwardly prepared himself for the worst. And sure enough, Russell had a panic attack that was worse than any other before, but to Anders’s surprise the breathing techniques Rose had taught him managed to calm the boy considerably faster than he would have expected. 

Small blessings to be thankful for. He could really do with a bit more sleep.

* * *

All in all and most of the time, Anders just went with the flow, going through the days like flying on autopilot and managing not to think too much.

Their daily routine was quickly re-established as it had been running smoothly for the last two weeks at Ty’s and Dawn’s house. But despite that, and despite the fact that things were beginning to fall into place and that Anders was really getting the hang of all that being a father business, the feeling of being a family still hadn’t made an appearance. To Anders it still felt that they were what Rose had called ‘coincidentally cohabiting strangers’.

Weekends were the worst. With nothing much to do during daytime, as he could neither busy himself with work nor distract himself with going out and drinking and flirting, he was forced to sit at home in the company of a five year old. He was constantly going back and forth between being stressed out and bored to death and would never for the life of him have thought it possible to be so eager for Monday mornings. And of course, that added a bad conscience into the mix of feelings he had to deal with. He was supposed to enjoy the company of his son.   
The touch training was the only thing he was able to do to help with that, but there was little to no progress. 

But sometimes, at night and when Russell was asleep again after his attacks, things would come crashing down on him again and then he could no longer hold on to his shields. All the feelings of anger and frustration and regret and self-loathing and the desperate wish for things to go back to the way they had been before would choke him, and he locked himself away in his en-suite to make sure Russell couldn’t hear him. 

And then he had to deal with the worst attack yet, after that day where he almost hadn’t made it and had arrived at the childcare centre completely stressed out and half panicked, two minutes before closing time, and Russell had been the last child still waiting to be picked up. That night his attack had been composed of alternately crying and screaming for his mum.

Drenched in sweat, Anders was lying in bed afterwards and wondered why the fucking hell everyone seemed to think he was doing such a good job when in truth, he kept fucking things up like this. Every time there seemed to be some sort of progress, Anders fucked it up and only caused another setback.

On top of everything else now there were social activities. Children’s birthday parties. Trips to the playground that he forced himself through to give Russell something that remotely resembled a normal family life. Small talk with mums during drop-off or pick-up time. It seemed as if he was surrounded by people who were taking parenting in stride and aced at it while he himself was just scraping by without visits from Childcare Authorities. 

And the invitation to the spring fete at the childcare centre was just another reminder of what his life had become. If only he could just resign to his fate and stop thinking about what his life had been and what he wanted his life to be and just... be. Accept this life. Make it his own. Maybe he wasn’t done yet with letting things go. Maybe he was still clinging to it.   
But maybe he just simply couldn’t do it. He wasn’t cut out to be a father; never was, never would be. 

Lost in those dark thoughts and with his concentration in tatters he just sat at his desk that Friday afternoon and doodled on a scrap of paper when Dawn came back from her lunch break.

“Anders?” She asked as she put down her bag. “What are you still doing here?”  
“Huh?” He absentmindedly added a row of smiley and frowny faces to his scribbles.  
“The spring fete! You should be in Kohimarama by now!”

Anders felt as if he had swallowed a bucket of ice water and stared at the time on his phone. 

He should have been there twenty minutes ago. 

“Shit.” He jumped up and grabbed his keys and phone, and feeling Dawn’s hateful stare at the back of his head he left the office in what was almost a run and never dared to look back. 

But if he had, he would have seen that Dawn’s eyes held nothing but soft compassion.


	20. Chapter 20

It was sheer luck that he wasn’t pulled over for speeding, but when Anders arrived he was already running half an hour late. Smoothing back his hair and straightening his jacket he walked in, and immediately realised he would have to do the walk of shame. The concert was over, and while everyone was now busy with coffee and cakes, either inside or outside on the playground, Anders felt and saw a lot of disapproving looks.

“You’re a little late,” one of the teachers said to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.  
“Yes,” Anders replied, adjusting his tie. “I’m sorry, I got caught up at work.”  
“Too bad,” she replied. “The kids did a lovely job.”  
“I’m sure of that.” Anders shook his head. “I’m really sorry.”  
She shrugged, her look telling him she didn’t quite believe those last words, but she left it at that.

Anders made his way through the people to find Russell, and felt a lot of eyes bore into his back. His heart was racing and something cold was creeping down his spine. This wasn’t supposed to be happening.   
Anders Johnson doesn’t forget appointments. He had missed Russell’s play. And here the boy had told him about the dog he played and his costume with a tail countless times. Countless times, and Anders had forgotten it anyway. 

He found Russell outside sitting on the grass playing with Al, and Anders’s heart clenched when he looked up at him as he noticed Anders’s presence. It was a look Anders had hoped to never see again: that dull and empty look of bleak despair Anders had seen in Wellington. And even worse, this time it had been him who had caused that look.

Swallowing hard, he went down into a crouch. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice rough. “I’m... I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t see you perform with the other kids.”  
Russell lowered his eyes and shrugged.  
Anders took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Look, I’m really sorry... Can I do something to make you feel better?”  
Without looking up, Russell shrugged again.

Straightening up again Anders combed his hands through his hair and closed his eyes. His throat was almost too dry to swallow. He helplessly looked around, but didn’t even know what to expect; most people were engaged in conversations, familiar with each other, relaxed and happy, but the few who looked at him gave him a once over and he could see more than one frown. 

He could practically _hear_ them think exactly what McInnis had said to him: A slick suit who doesn’t care about what other people feel and stops at nothing to get what he wants. And uses his money to compensate his son for the love he isn’t able or willing to give.

He slowly sat down on the grass beside Russell and had to literally bite his tongue when the boy scooted the tiniest bit away from him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I want to make it...” _Better? Go and offer to buy him a new alligator while you’re at it._  
That thought immediately caused the bile to rise in his throat and he stomped on the memory it had caused. He couldn’t deal with that right now.

“I know I... I messed it up, Russ.” He cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have... I should have paid more attention to the time. I’m sorry... can I make it up to you?” He had a look around. “They’re making Belgian waffles over there, whipped cream and everything. Do you want one?”  
Despite having expected it, Russell’s headshake made it only worse. “I don’t know how to make this better, Russ. You gotta tell me what I should do. What do you want me to do to make it up to you?”  
Again, Russell just shrugged. 

He couldn’t handle this. “Mind if I grab myself a coffee?”  
Russell shook his head, his eyes still fixed to the ground. He was picking blades of grass apart and stuffing them into Al’s mouth. 

Anders passed several groups of people who were talking about work, business, family and kids, the weather or politics. No one paid him any notice, but when he came back to where he had left him, Russell was gone and only a small heap of shredded grass blades remained. He had to close his eyes for a second, then turned away and took a sip of his coffee.

“Are you okay?”  
Lost in thoughts, he had never even heard the woman approach and almost spilled coffee down his front.  
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!”   
Anders looked down into the face of a petite and delicate woman with long, dark hair and bright brown eyes. “I was a little lost in thought.”  
“I could see that.” She smiled and tilted her head. “You looked very sad and worried. Are you okay? You must be new here, aren’t you?” She held out her hand. “I’m Carolyn Marshall, I’m Colin’s mum.”  
“Anders Johnson,” Anders replied and took her hand. “I’m Russell’s father. He’s the boy with the alligator.”

Not that schoolchildren were usually running around with plush toys, but Al was sitting in Russell’s wardrobe compartment and had to accompany him during every break. As of yet, his classmates weren’t old enough to make fun of him for that. 

“Oh yes!” She laughed softly. “I’ve seen him, yes. Why don’t you come over and get to know the others?”

Anders took a sip of coffee and looked over his shoulders at the other parents. “I don’t think so. I’m a pariah.”  
“You what?” She crossed her arms.  
“I am the Father Who Came Too Late,” Anders said slowly, unable to meet her eyes. “I don’t even blame them for judging me. I even judge myself. To be a hopeless ass, to be precise.”  
“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad. We all make mistakes sometimes.”  
“Sure,” Anders gave back and stared into his cup. “But Russell is... I can’t afford to _fuck_ it up like that.” He had only hissed the f-word under his breath, but he still looked hastily around as if someone could have heard it. 

Her eyes were suddenly full of concern. “Why? Because his mother couldn’t come? I’m sure he understands...”  
“He doesn’t have a mother anymore,” Anders said sharply. “And no, I am not widowed, until less than half a year ago I didn’t even know he existed, and suddenly I am in charge of him and I keep _fucking_ it up.”

He didn’t want to look at her anymore, so he buried his nose in his cup. She sighed, but instead of giving him some crap about life going on or something, she just began to rummage around in her handbag, then offered him a tissue. Anders was just about to decline politely when he saw that she had scribbled her number onto it. 

“Just call me, you know. Maybe I can help with some parental advice. I’ve got three boys, so maybe I can give you some tips.” She smiled warmly. “Or maybe just when you feel the urge to talk to an adult on a Sunday afternoon. The kids can play together and the grownups can talk, it’s a win-win, really.” 

She patted his arm with a smile and left him, and Anders slowly picked up the tissue and slipped it into the inner pocket of his jacket.

* * *

Russell remained silent and refused to look at Anders for the rest of the afternoon, during dinner, and during bedtime. Anders even offered to read Winnie the Pooh, but Russell shrugged and curled up under the blanket. Shaking his head with a cold feeling of dread pooling in his stomach, Anders closed the bedroom door behind him and, after sorting out the kitchen, simply went to bed himself. 

He didn’t go to sleep, though. He just waited for the inevitable.

Watching Russell sob so violently his whole body was shaking, and listening to him crying for his mother, Anders had never in his life felt so helpless and miserable, and had never loathed himself more than he did right now. He wasn’t even allowed to take his hand, so all he could do was rub a hand down Russell’s back in a vain attempt to calm or comfort him, but nothing he said or did could get through. In the end, Russell passed out from sheer exhaustion. 

Anders didn’t really sleep anymore that night, but made a decision about the further course of action of his repentance, and spent the early morning with preparing sandwiches and packing the Bag. 

Experience had taught him some lessons, so now he never left the house without the Bag when he had Russell with him. It was a black messenger bag, looked more like a laptop case and definitely _not_ a handbag, and contained everything that he had to learn the hard way he might need: A set of spare clothes, a pack of wet wipes and two packs of tissues, a bottle of water and some muesli bars, a pack of band aids and his Kindle. The latter because playgrounds were the most abysmal pits in the hell of boredom.

So when Russell crawled out of bed later that morning, Anders was able to put on a cheerful face and announced they were going to the beach to have a picnic and then to the playground. 

Russell looked up at him without saying a word, but the bleak and empty look was no longer as bleak and empty as it had been the day before.

All through the day, from the picnic at Mission Bay Beach and feeding the seagulls with sandwich crumbs to the playground, Russell hadn’t said a single word. But once there, he found a few kids that he knew from the childcare centre, and even if Anders couldn’t hear him, he could see that he was at least talking to them. Believing the worst to be over, Anders got comfortable with his Kindle and only cast occasional glances into the direction of the playing children. 

Things went tits up though when Anders decided they had to head home so Russell could have a bath before dinner. He called out for Russell, but got no response. He called again, and Russell still didn’t react. With a sigh, Anders got up and walked over to the little patch of dirt next to a bush where he crouched down. 

“Russ? It’s time to go home.”  
Russell kept his eyes fiercely on the stick with which he was poking holes into the dirt.  
“Come on, Russ. We need to go home.” And he gently took Russell’s arm.

“I don’t want to go,” Russell said, voice trembling.   
“Russell, please don’t...” Anders cautiously gave Russell’s arm a tug to make him get up. “We need to go home...”  
“I don’t want to go! I don’t want to go with you!” 

Anders was completely taken aback and caught off guard when Russell tore out of his grip. “I don’t want to go with you! I want my mum!”  
“Russ...” Anders nervously smoothed back his hair. Conversations had died around them. “Russell, please calm down...”  
“I want my mum! Mum! Mum! I want my mum!!”

Anders swallowed and had a hasty look around. People weren’t looking, they were _staring_. 

“Russell...” He tried to take the boy’s arm, but now Russell was struggling in his grip with all his strength and screamed at the top of his lungs. 

“I want my mum! Mum! Mum! I don’t want to go with you! Mum! I want my mum!!”  
“Russell...” Anders hissed, absolutely mortified and not a little scared. He could see one of the fathers head into his direction.

“What the hell is going on here?” He asked when he had reached them and looked at Russell who was still trying to get out of Anders’s grip. Then he looked at Anders with lowering eyebrows.  
“I appreciate your concern, but it’s not what you think,” Anders said through gritted teeth.  
The man narrowed his eyes and looked from Anders down to Russell again who was struggling and sobbing.  
“Russell...” Anders tried again. “Please stop that...”

“I know life isn’t always what we want it to be,” the stranger said. “But it always breaks my heart when I see these small kids who are torn apart when their families are torn apart.”  
“I don’t even...”  
“I mean, okay, so people get divorced. But it’s always the kids who pay the price.” He crouched down. “You wanna go see your mum, captain? I’m sure your dad can...”  
“I want my mum back!”  
“You sure do.” Then he straightened up again. “Must be hard being reduced to a weekend father.”

“I am not a weekend father.” Anders had to adjust his grip on Russell’s sleeve and raised his voice. “And I can’t magic his mother here, either.”  
“Then for the love of Christ, bring him home! The poor little thing clearly wants to be with his mother so take him there for god’s sake!”

The effect of those last words was absolutely unforeseeable. Russell stopped struggling so suddenly that Anders almost lost his balance, and then stared up at the stranger with his eyes growing wider and wider and filling with tears. The man took a step back and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. 

At that moment, someone else joined the scene, a woman who looked faintly familiar to Anders.

“Russell?” She looked at the boy and then at Anders. “Mr Johnson, is it? I’m Christine Parker, Emma’s mother. What on earth is going on, Frank?”  
“I was just... I was thinking maybe something fishy was going on here...”  
“As if anyone was stupid enough to pull a stunt like this on a playground in front of dozens of people,” she interrupted him. Then she looked down at Russell, and her facial expression became even more concerned. “Russ? What... Frank, what did you say to him?”  
“I just suggested he should best be with his mother...”

“I don’t want to go to Karori,” Russell suddenly whispered, his voice raw with terror. “I don’t wanna go to Karori...”  
“Oh for Christ’s sake...” Anders dragged both hands down his face.  
“I don’t wanna go to Karori.” The boy began to shake so violently his teeth rattled.   
Anders shot the man called Frank a venomous look. “That was right what I needed, thank you!”

“I just...”  
“I don’t wanna go to Karori!” Russell whispered and clamped his arms around Anders’s right leg. “I don’t wanna go to Karori...”

Swallowing hard, Anders lowered himself down while prying his leg out of Russell’s grip, disregarding the dirt staining his trousers. “Russell, please listen to me. No one is sending you to Karori.”  
“I don’t wanna go to Karori...” Now he was digging his fingers into Anders’s shirt and sobbed into his shoulder. “I don’t wanna go to Karori... please, I don’t wanna go to Karori...”

With a heavy sigh, Anders closed both arms around the boy and laboured onto his feet again. Russell clamped his legs around Anders’s hips and his arms around his neck and kept sobbing into his shoulder.

Emma’s mother and the man called Frank exchanged a dismayed and worried look while Anders adjusted his grip on Russell. 

“No one is going to send you to Karori, Russ. You’re not going back there.”  
“But I just...” The other father ran both hands through his hair, making it stand on edge. “I just thought he would be better off with his mum!”  
“Don’t get him started again!” Anders snapped. “I would rather he was with his mum as well, but I can’t go and abandon him at Wellington cemetery now, can I?!”

Both other parents stared at him with their mouths falling open. Emma’s mother was the first to get her wits back. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry...” She said. “I am so terribly sorry...”

Anders just gritted his teeth and shrugged as much as that was possible with Russell clinging to him like a baby monkey and his bag about to slip down from his other shoulder. 

“Just forget it.” He was almost choking on his own words. “Just fuck off and leave me alone.” 

He turned around and left them staring at his back as he carried Russell back to the car. Anders tried not to listen to him whimpering that he was sorry over and over again on the drive home. 

He was done for. He was so fucking done for.


	21. Chapter 21

With his exhaustion stronger than his anxiety that night Anders fell asleep instantly and as usual, was woken up by Russell’s crying around midnight. Only this time he wasn’t only panicking, he had also wet himself and the bed. For a second or two Anders had to suppress the urge to yell at him to shut the fuck up, but took a deep breath instead and proceeded to take care of the mess. He gave Russell a rinse in the shower and a new pair of pyjama bottoms, then discovered that the duvet was wet and would need a wash as well. 

He just couldn’t deal with a heap of laundry right now. And after a single glance at Russell who was huddled in a corner, curled up around Al, he heaved a heavy sigh and walked over to him. 

“Hey,” he said softly. “I’m not angry, I’m just tired. And I want to go to bed, just like you, I think. It’s just... your bed is wet so... you can just sleep in my bed tonight, okay? It’s big enough for two.”

Russell uncurled and looked up, then slowly got onto his feet to follow Anders into his bedroom. Anders got him settled on the other side of the bed that wasn’t in use and crawled under his own blanket again. He sighed, adjusted his position and opened his eyes to find Russell look at him with big, solemn eyes.

“Russ,” he said in a low voice. “Do you think we can maybe forget about this weekend?”  
Russell buried a little deeper into the blanket. “’m sorry,” he whispered.  
“I’m sorry too. And it won’t happen again. I swear it won’t happen again. I will never ever do something stupid like that again.”

After closing his eyes, Russell swallowed and nodded. Anders sighed again, then cautiously reached out and covered the hand that was peeking out from under Russell’s blanket with his own. Without opening his eyes Russell extended his other hand as well and held on to Anders’s hand with both of his.

“It’s going to be okay,” Anders said.  
“I’m scared...”  
“What are you scared of, Russ?”  
Russell pinched his eyes even tighter shut. “I’m scared.”  
“It’s okay,” Anders replied. “I think I’d be scared too if I was you.”

At that, Russell opened his eyes again, and there was that strange look again Anders had seen when they had left Rose’s office, after the therapy session when they had tried the trust building exercise for the first time. Russell had never managed to do that again afterwards, and Anders didn’t dare to hope that this abysmal fuck-up wouldn’t produce a major setback.  
It made his throat go dry. He didn’t want to fuck it up all the time. The poor boy deserved so much better than that. And it was something that Anders didn’t seem to be able to give. He was just the most pathetic father ever.

He didn’t want this anymore. This fighting for every breath, every look, this hacking away at walls that rebuilt themselves faster than he could pick them apart. He just wanted Russ to be okay. He wanted Russell to feel safe again. He wanted to be able to take care of him properly, like a father should. And he had no fucking clue how to do it, and no fucking clue how to get there. Therapy was producing no results, and nothing else Anders tried seemed to convince the boy that life was actually better than what he had known until now.

He just wanted for all of this to be better. He wanted to be Russell’s father. No, he wanted to be his _dad_.  
But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

His thoughts kept running in circles for a while, but despite his dark thoughts, Anders fell asleep eventually. 

He dreamed of his mother, about the time before she had deteriorated into an uncaring alcoholic. She was reading from a book to him, one of those rare moments when she seemed to actually care, moments that had probably happened because of her being mellowed by the new baby, and he was snuggled against her while baby Ty was sleeping in her lap.   
He also dreamed of Johann, of shouting, beating, about his disdain for a son he constantly thought too small, too fragile and too much of a runt to ever become a proper man. 

When he woke up it was in bright daylight, and images of his dreams were still ghosting around in his head. Russell was still sleeping, and he was also still holding on to Anders’s hand. Apparently neither of them had moved an inch after falling asleep.   
Anders smiled, despite the knot in his stomach returning with a vengeance, and carefully extracted his hand because he had to piss like a racehorse.

When he returned from the bathroom he couldn’t suppress another smile; Russell had somehow rolled over onto his side of the bed and was curled up under Anders’s blanket now. He was still asleep, and for once, his expression was peaceful. His hair was all tousled and a strand was sticking to a corner of his mouth, and Anders carefully reached out and brushed it away.   
Why couldn’t it always be like this? Russell happy and at peace... why was he so blatantly unable to do the right things?

 _Little child..._

All of a sudden, as he watched his son’s sleeping face, a song sprang to his mind and lodged itself into his brain. 

_Little child, dry your crying eyes..._

Guns ‘n’ Roses? No, White Lion... 

_...how can I explain the fear you feel inside?_

The first few lines alone he remembered made his vision blur.

After wiping his eyes, and listening to the song in his head while his heart dropped into his stomach, he sat down on the mattress. Russell sleepily opened his eyes.

“Budge over, buddy. That’s my side.”  
Russell hastily moved back under his own blanket, and Anders lay down again despite it being midmorning at least.   
“Slept okay?”  
Russell nodded.   
“Wanna sleep some more? I’m still tired.”  
The boy nodded again and adjusted Al in his arms before closing his eyes again. 

Anders wouldn’t have thought it possible to fall asleep again, but he did. Because he was awoken again by something tickling his cheek. He groggily opened his eyes and realised that it was a cautious, little finger touching the scruff on his face. His heart skipped a beat and began to race. 

“Hey,” he whispered, and the finger vanished so fast that Anders wasn’t sure if he had felt it at all.  
But then Russell said: “You’re scratchy.”  
Anders couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Yeah, I know.”  
“I’m hungry...”  
“Huh. So I’m scratchy and you’re hungry. Guess we’d better grab some breakfast then, hm?”

Russell scooted out of the bed and Anders followed, only realising once he was walking down the stairs that he was touching his cheek.

* * *

Not fancying being alone on that particular Sunday Anders had called Ty and asked if they could cadge some cupcakes. Ty had laughed and assured them they always had cupcakes on Sundays and that they were more than welcome. 

And sensing that something was the matter, Dawn sat down with Russell to read – Treasure Island this time, and Anders didn’t ask why they had all the classics in a children’s version – and sent Ty and Anders for a walk.

As they did so, Anders emptied his heart to his brother again, starting with his abysmal fuck-up with the forgotten concert to the meltdown on the playground and the disaster of the following night. But he also told Ty about what had happened earlier that day. 

Ty draped an arm around Anders’s shoulder and gave him a quick hug. “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think, then.”  
“Maybe,” Anders replied. He could still feel the tiny, feather-light touch of a finger on his cheek. “I just wonder how long it’ll last until the next meltdown.”  
“Maybe longer than you think. If he touched you on his own accord, then things are definitely improving, don’t you think?”  
“One step forward, three back,” Anders gave back darkly. “At least I have something to tell Rose tomorrow apart from the usual ‘nothing happened’.”

Ty hugged him again before letting go, and they headed back to grab some raspberry cupcakes.

* * *

Rose listened to Anders’s recount with a grave face, but again, her voice was completely devoid of any kind of accusation or blame. 

“That’s something that could have happened to anyone,” she said firmly. “That it happened to you and Russell is just more unfortunate than it would have been for someone else.”

Anders couldn’t meet her eyes. A _proper_ father would never have forgotten his son’s concert.

“Russell,” she said softly. “You are disappointed and sad. It’s completely normal to feel that way. But you know Anders didn’t do it on purpose, and that he is very sorry, right?”  
Russell nodded.   
“So do you think you can forgive him and be okay with him again? Maybe not now, but at one point?”  
Russell bit his lip and looked up at Anders who looked back without hiding how he felt. “Okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay again.”  
“Really?” Anders swallowed past a hard lump in his throat. “It’s okay again?”  
Russell nodded, but then hastily buried his nose in Al’s fur.

And to Anders utter surprise, the touching and trust training hadn’t suffered from what had happened. There was no setback. Still no progress whatsoever, but no setback. Anders guessed that this was as good as it would get for now. It could be worse. Much, much worse. 

Anders felt his spirits lift a little on the way home. For the first time since the day he had stepped off that plane in Auckland, he felt a little hope.

* * *

Later that evening Dawn called him.

 _“Hey. How are you holding up? How did it go?”_  
“Better than I expected.”  
 _“See. Now listen, Ty and I have talked. You look so tired, and I’m sure you are as exhausted as you look. So we’d like to give you a free weekend. If Russell’s okay with it, of course. We pick him up Friday afternoon and drop him off again Monday morning. What do you think?”_

Anders couldn’t reply for a few moments. “Dawn, you’re an angel. And so is Ty.”  
Dawn chuckled. _“Not angels. Just family. We care about you, Anders, and I think you need more than a little break to get your head clear again. I’d suggest you sleep and put up your feet. Ty says you should go out and get your end away.”_  
At that, Anders had to laugh. “Tell him he is the most adorable idiot in the world and I love him for it.”  
 _“He is, isn’t he? But whatever you do, I’m sure it’ll be good for you.”_  
“Provided Russell agrees.”  
Dawn assured him that he would before she wished him a good night. 

And as it turned out, Russell was actually pretty excited at the prospect of spending a weekend with Ty and Dawn. That is, excited for him. He was wiggling in his chair, not acting like a cross between a puppy and a bouncy ball as other kids might have. 

So they got through their week anticipating the weekend, and when he came home Friday afternoon, Anders realised that this was the first real breathing space since he had entered the office building in Wellington all those weeks ago. Weeks that had already turned into months. 

He spent the rest of the day in front of the telly watching crap just because he could, ordered a pizza and for the first time since Wellington had more than one beer. That night, he slept like the dead.

And Saturday evening he had a shower, put on something smart and classy, and had a taxi take him downtown and to his favourite club. 

He hadn’t been here for ages and the barman greeted him like a long-lost friend before presenting him with a Vodka Martini without him having to order it. And he didn’t even have to wait for company that long after settling in. He had just sat down when someone pulled over another chair to his table.

“Hey handsome, you look lonely.” The black satin dress hugged her figure, and her make-up was unobtrusive and tasteful. Her face was framed by lush locks of chestnut silk and she smiled at him under lowered eyelids. “Buy me a White Russian? I could keep you company.”   
So he wouldn’t even have to hunt tonight. Anders took a sip of his drink and smiled back, using his dimples to his advantage. “Sounds like a really good idea, babe.”

He didn’t take her home though; he wasn’t sure if she would be comfortable using a bathroom with a dinosaur towel and an Avenger toothbrush, or stumbling over toys when trying to get to the kitchen for a coffee the morning after. Instead he booked a hotel room, with bubble bath and champagne and with a king size bed. 

He even agreed, for the first time ever, to exchange numbers before they parted ways the next morning, but when he texted her on Monday during his lunch break, he got a reply from someone else telling him he had been given a wrong number. If that was true or not didn’t really matter, the effect was the same. And since Anders had pulled that particular stunt many times himself, he just shrugged it off and focussed on his work again which was surprisingly easy. So apparently, he hadn’t been the hunter but the prey this time, but he’d had so much worse during the last weeks that he couldn’t be bothered to care.

Maybe he should have thought of something like that free weekend long ago. But maybe Russell wouldn’t have been ready for that. 

Either way, Anders felt more relaxed and energetic than he had felt in a very long time, and even went through the therapy sessions with a smile. Russell seemed more relaxed too, even though there was no progress yet. But if he could avoid any more stupid fuck-ups, then maybe things would get better after all.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I asked my daughter (5 yrs) for the picture in this chapter. So this looks real because it is real, not because I tried to emulate children's drawings by using my left hand. :)

The next week was uneventful and Russell’s nightly panic attacks lessened again, which might, just maybe, mean that he was beginning to feel better. Anders refused to hold his breath, but they both got a bit more sleep that week. 

It was Saturday afternoon and he and Russell were sitting at the dining table; Anders with his laptop and Russell with paper and coloured pencils. Anders would occasionally glance at what he was doing, but other than things that might have been either cones of ice cream or crooked hearts he couldn’t see anything remotely recognisable. Not that he blamed him, far from it; he just couldn’t for the life of him understand how parents could take these scribblings and put them on the fridge door or even the wall.

Anders was trying to make a brochure; he leaned back and forward, zooming in and out, and changed the font several times without it making a difference one way or another. It didn’t look right yet, and he narrowed his eyes. He reached for his pen to give his fingers something to do, but when he touched only table surface he looked up to see Russell had borrowed it. 

Anders looked back at his screen. What if he would...?

“Anders?”  
“Hm?” Anders leaned back and kept staring at his screen.  
From the corner of his eyes he could see Russell fidget. “When do I have to go back?”  
“Two more days,” he replied absentmindedly, frowning at his screen. “Today’s Saturday, and tomorrow’s Sunday, so kindergarten won’t be before Monday.”  
“No, not Kohimarama. Back.”  
“Back where?”  
“Back to Wellington.”

Anders suddenly felt as if he had missed part of the conversation. And then the realisation of what Russell had said sunk in. 

He closed the laptop and pushed it aside, then leaned forward to look at the boy.

“What do you mean, back to Wellington? You’re not going back to Wellington.”  
Russell swallowed and fidgeted even more. “But...”  
“Russell...” Looking at Russell and noticing the look in those blue eyes, Anders felt something ice-cold creeping down his spine. “Russell, you’re not going back to Wellington.”

Russell stared silently up at him. And he was looking at Anders with that wide-eyed, strange look that Anders had secretly called the Post-Therapy Look, when Russell would look at him as if he was a puzzle to figure out. They both stared at each other for a long moment of heavy silence.

Anders’s heart began to race, and he felt something inside him recoil in horror at what he was beginning to realise. He reached out and took both of Russell’s hands in his. “Russell... you’re not going back to Wellington. You’re not going anywhere.” His voice was suddenly a little unsteady. “You... Russell, you live here now. With us, with your family. Your uncles, your aunties. With me. This is your home, your family. You’re not going anywhere, and least of all back to Wellington.”

Russell’s eyes slowly widened, but otherwise he went as still as a statue. His hands rested limp and lifeless in Anders’s. 

“Russell...” Anders took a deep breath. “This is your home now. You belong here, with us, and with me. This is our house. The white house you like so much. And...” He looked at the fish tank. “Jake and Elrond? They’re yours, remember? Your catfish. You’ve got your room, your bed... Russell, this is your life. Our life. Russ... for Christ’s sake, what gave you the idea you would ever have to go back?”  
Russell mutely shook his head, his eyes so wide it looked painful.  
“Oh god...” Anders shook his head as well. “Russ... Russell, no. No, just... no. You’re not going back there. Never ever. I mean... you don’t want to go back there, do you?”  
“No...” Russell whispered tonelessly. “I don’t wanna go back to Wellington...”

“See,” Anders said firmly, in the hopes of preventing an endless loop of the same sentence. “You don’t want to, and I don’t want you to go back to Wellington either. You’re staying here, with me. I’m not...” He took a deep, shaky breath. “You... did you think I would give you back to Kevin at one point?”  
Russell swallowed again but shrugged.  
“You did, didn’t you? But I am not going to. I am not going to give you away!”  
“Kevin said so too,” Russell whispered, his voice already thick with tears that were brimming in his eyes.

“And he gave you away...” Anders said in a dead whisper. He felt as if he was about to puke. “No, no no no... This is... that is not going to happen. I am your father, your real father, and you belong with me and I am... I am not going to give you away again.” His voice broke, and he had to clear his throat. “And no one’s going to make me. No one is going to take you away from me. No one is going to take you back to Wellington. They’d have to get past me, and... and past Uncle Ty, and Uncle Mike, and Uncle Axl, and Cousin Olaf too, they won’t let that happen, and Auntie Dawn, Christ, I wouldn’t want to cross her when she’s in a rage...”

A single tear trickled down Russell’s cheek.

“No, Russ, no. You’re one of us. You’re a... you’re a Johnson, you’re a part of this family and we...” He snorted out a mirthless huff of breath. “We stick together. We do. Do you think Uncle Axl would let someone take you away? He’d turn into the Hulk if someone tried that. And Ty? Do you think Ty would just stand and watch when someone came and told us you’d have to go back? Or Mike? No. No, Russ. You stay right here where you belong. With us. With me.”

If not for the silent tears, Russell might have been turned to stone.

“Russell...” Anders said slowly. “How long... when did you...” He could hardly keep his breathing calm. “Did you think... the whole time? All that time? Right from when we came here?”  
Russell nodded mutely.

For all of his life, Anders had believed that a broken heart was just a phrase, a soppy expression made up by writers and poets. But at that very moment, when he looked at that little boy’s face, he realised what it meant. He was so young he shouldn’t have a single concern in the world, but that he would not only think that the world _could_ be that cruel but was convinced that it _would_ be that cruel did break his heart.

It just broke. A clean, bright pain, and he could even hear it, something so deep inside that he would never be able to put it into words. 

And he knew he was about to lose his shit completely. 

The only thing he could think of right now was calling for help. He grabbed his phone and didn’t even look, he only remembered that the last few calls he had made had been family and he just hit redial.

 _“Hey Anders, what’s up?”_ It was Mike.  
“Get Ty and Dawn here,” Anders rasped, his voice shaking and rough. Then he ended the call without taking his eyes off Russell who had begun to tremble.

“Russ...” He whispered hoarsely and when Russell looked up at him, he had to bite back his own tears.  
“I don’t want to go back,” Russell whispered. “I want to stay with you.”  
“You... you’re staying with me. Here. In Auckland. Home.” Anders cautiously put his hands on Russell’s shoulders, and the boy burst into tears. 

“Christ, no...” And without thinking, Anders pulled him close, and Russell grabbed two handful of Anders’s shirt and held on for dear life as he went completely to pieces.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. “God, you poor boy,” Anders whispered, and then he picked him up and carried him over to the sofa where he let himself fall down, Russell on his lap. Still crying in helpless, wailing sobs, the boy curled up and pressed himself against Anders’s chest, and Anders closed his arms around him and held him as tightly as he could while fighting his own tears. He couldn’t cave in. Mustn’t cave in. Not now. Not yet. 

“I’m not letting you go,” he whispered into Russell’s hair. It was thick and silky and smelled of flower shampoo and of little boy and so utterly familiar on an almost subconscious level that it made Anders hug the boy even tighter. “My son. My boy... I’m not letting you go.”

Anders had no idea how long he had been sitting there with Russell in his arms; so when he finally heard the sound of a key being turned in the lock he almost cried as well from sheer relief. 

“Anders!” Ty hurried across the room and almost fell down on to his knees. “What in...” Then he realised what he was seeing, and his eyes met Anders’s. “Andy... what the fuck happened?”  
Anders could hear Dawn as well, she dropped off her bag and sat down beside him on the sofa, eyes wide with worry and concern.

“He thought he’d have to go back,” Anders croaked, then cleared his throat. “He thought I’d sent him back again.”  
“Back?” Ty exchanged a baffled look with Dawn. “Back where?”  
“Wellington.” Anders could hardly recognise his own voice. “We were just sitting there minding our own business when he suddenly asks out of the blue when he has to go back to Wellington. And...” He took a deep, unsteady breath. “Turns out he was...” He looked up again into his brother’s eyes. “All the time, Ty. All the time, from that very first night we stayed at your place. All that time, he’s been waiting for the hammer to fall, expecting he’d get send back to Wellington and that... that...” Despite all his efforts, his voice finally broke. “All that time he believed this was only temporarily and that he’d have to go back.”

For a long moment, Russell’s helpless sobs were the only sound.

“Christ,” Ty finally whispered.  
Dawn wiped a hand across her eyes. “Dear god, no...” She swallowed hard as well. “The poor little boy... how could that happen?”  
“I don’t have a fucking clue,” Anders whispered hoarsely. “I don’t have a clue. I don’t... I don’t know anything anymore.”

After another moment, in which Dawn and Ty looked at each other and somehow managed to communicate something without words, Dawn reached out for Russell and ran her fingers through his hair.

“Russ,” she said gently. “Russell, please, can you look at me?”  
It took him a moment, but he eventually uncurled to look up at Dawn.  
“You precious little darling,” Dawn whispered and rested a hand on his cheek. “You poor boy. Don’t worry. Don’t be afraid anymore. We’re not letting you go. You belong with us.” Then she leaned back and opened her arms. 

Russell was still crying, but it had calmed into soft sobs and hiccups. He looked at Dawn for a moment, then he uncurled a little more. Anders loosened his grip, and Russell scooted over into Dawn’s lap where he huddled against her when Dawn closed her arms around him. She pressed a kiss into his hair. “You’re our little boy, Russ,” she said. “Forever.”

Anders let his head fall back with a shaky breath, but as he was about to close his eyes, he felt Ty’s hand take one of his. He looked up again and saw Ty watch him with a very concerned expression. 

He would have liked to tell him he was fine, or would be fine, but the truth was that he felt so weak inside that he was sure the very first word he said would break the last thin wall of his mental barriers. Following the tug at his hand he laboured onto his feet, and Ty closed one arm around Anders’s shoulder and steered him upstairs and into his bedroom.

Anders fell onto the bed as Ty softly closed the door, and as soon as he sat down next to him, Anders felt the first tremors of another meltdown. 

“The poor boy,” he whispered. “The poor... all that time. All that fucking time!”  
Ty wordlessly draped an arm around Anders’s shoulders, and this time, Anders was long past the point where he could even pretend he didn’t need the shoulder Ty was offering him. He fell against his brother with a rusty sob.

“This is a fucking nightmare,” Anders whispered without opening his eyes. “How could I... how did I not see that?”  
“How were you supposed to?” Ty let go of him and leaned back, but firmly took both of Anders’s shoulders. “Come on, Andy, you’ve been in therapy for how many weeks now? She’s a professional, man, and if she didn’t see it, then how the fuck are you supposed to?”

It was only a small comfort, but it did take the edge off. Anders said as much, and Ty gave him a gentle smile. 

“This is a clusterfuck like I’ve never seen before, and that’s saying something with you lot I have as brothers.”  
It had the desired effect, and Anders felt his lips twitch.  
“So really... there’s no use in asking yourself why you didn’t see this, because you couldn’t. If there’s anyone who maybe could or should have seen it it’s Rose, and she didn’t, so blaming yourself is like... like blaming yourself for the weather or something.”

Anders wiped his sleeve across his face and nodded. “I think you’re right... it’s just...”  
“I know.” Ty shrugged. “Me too. How could this have happened. How could we not have realised. But we didn’t. I know it’s easier said than done, Andy, but we all need to get over this and focus on what happens next.”  
“And what’s going to happen next?”

Ty shrugged. “We take it as it comes. For one, Dawn and I are going to stay here tonight because there is going to be a cataclysmic breakdown; and even if there isn’t, we don’t want to leave you alone right now. You might not need our help, but I’m sure you feel better for the company.”  
Anders managed a crooked smile. 

“So come on,” Ty said and got up, then offered Anders his hand and helped him up as well. “You good to go?”  
“Hang on a sec,” Anders replied and headed to the bathroom to clean his face. 

A glance in the mirror told him that he looked as if he’d been used as a chew toy by something really big and ugly. Then he sighed, and tried to put himself back together.

When Ty and Anders came back downstairs, Russell was sitting at the table again, busily scribbling away with Anders’s ballpoint pen. Dawn was making coffee, and Ty unceremoniously pushed Anders into a chair as Dawn put a cup down in front of him. Without thinking, Anders gulped half of the coffee and lowered the cup again with a smile. 

“You make the best coffee in the world, Dawnsie. If you weren’t already taken, I’d propose.”  
Dawn threw her head back and laughed, and Ty possessively slung both arms around her. “Sorry bro, this one’s mine.”  
Anders smiled up at them and took another sip of coffee.

Something tugged at his sleeve, and Anders looked up to see Russell stand next to him with a sheet of paper. More crooked and ugly stick figures. 

But something very, very strange happened to Anders as he took the paper to look at it. 

He looked back at Russell, and saw something he hadn’t seen in a while: That tiny little almost-smile hiding behind the corners of his mouth. Following an impulse, Anders picked the boy up and settled him on his lap. 

“It really is going to be okay, right?”  
Russell bit his lips.  
“Okay?”  
“Okay,” the boy finally said. 

Anders looked back at the picture and just about managed to keep the tremor out of his voice. 

“Is that... is that you? And me?”  
Russell nodded.  
“And I suppose that’s me wearing a tie, right?”  
Russell nodded again.

Anders smiled at him and then back at the picture. “I like it. It’s great.”

  



	23. Chapter 23

Russell’s panic attack that night was different; while he woke up crying, he wasn’t curled up when Anders came in, he was sitting bolt upright staring straight ahead with wet and heavy sobs. Anders cautiously sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t wanna go back,” Russell whispered miserably. “I wanna stay here.”  
“You’re not going back,” Anders replied as gentle as he could.   
Russell slowly stopped shaking and finally, turned his head to look at Anders. “I wanna stay with you.”  
Cautiously, Anders rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You’re my son. Of course you’ll be staying here with me.”

Russell swallowed audibly, and then took a few deep shaky breaths.   
“Really.” Anders carefully increased the pressure of his fingers.   
“Al wants to stay, too.”  
“I’m sure he does. And I’m not letting either of you go back to Wellington.”

There was that look again, that intense stare of deep puzzlement that looked neither frightened nor despairing. Anders found that look hard to bear for some reason, and couldn’t really meet Russell’s eyes. After a moment, however, Russell slowly lowered himself down again and curled up. Anders pulled the duvet up and tucked him in, then brushed a strand of hair from the boy’s face.

“Think you can sleep again?”  
Russell nodded, but slipped one hand out from under the duvet. Anders took it and closed his fingers around it.   
“Can you stay a bit?”  
“Sure.” 

Anders sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall, holding on to Russell’s hand. Eventually, that hand became limp and heavy, and Anders left as silently as he could after taking a last look at his sleeping son.

* * *

When Anders dragged himself down the stairs the next morning, he was greeted by the smell of eggs and coffee and by a smiling Dawn offering him a cup. 

“I was up early, and when Russ heard me he came down instead of waking you up, isn’t that nice?”  
“Oh. Oh, sure it was.” Anders smiled at Russell who was sitting opposite him and was enjoying eggs and sausages. “Very nice.” 

For a second there, Anders thought that this would be Russell’s first smile, but then the boy quickly ducked his head and busied himself with his breakfast.

“We’re having a little family get-together at our place later today,” Ty said after putting his cup down onto the counter. “I’ve rounded everyone up.”  
“Already?” Anders squinted into his cup. “What time is it?”  
“Quarter to eleven,” Dawn answered brightly. “We thought we’d give you the chance to sleep in.”  
Anders looked up at Russell and his plate. “And he’s still eating?” He asked with a chuckle.  
“Oh, heavens, no. That’s his second breakfast.”

Anders chuckled again, and when Russell realised he wasn’t being shouted at for eating so much, he continued with a pleased expression. Still no smile, though, and Anders began to wonder what on earth he would have to do to break the ice and get that boy to finally smile.

* * *

Ty and Dawn were busily whipping up cupcakes and sandwiches when Axl arrived as the first of the Johnson Clan, and he immediately took Russell outside into the garden to play rugby, or at least play with the ball. Russell didn’t seem very keen on the rugby part, but he went outside with his uncle nonetheless. 

Mike and Michelle arrived only shortly after with Olaf in tow who had hitched a ride with them. Mike was also carrying an old cardboard box under one arm that he put onto the dining table with a very broad smile.

“Thought this would be the perfect opportunity,” he said. “Val called me the other day because they found that box in the attic above the garage. I’d forgotten it when I moved out, and you know what’s inside?”  
Ty and Anders exchanged a glance and a shrug.

Mike opened the box and reached inside. And with a grin, he produced an old book that was about to fall apart.

Ty’s face went through an amazing transformation, from a puzzled frown through startled surprise into utter delight. 

“Peter Pan!” He almost yelled and grabbed the book out of Mike’s hands. “I thought that thing was history! Where did you find that?”  
“You know...” Mike rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I guess I got hit by a streak of sentimentality when I moved out of the house in Norsewood and packed a box of childhood keepsakes.”  
Ty was carefully leafing through the old and tattered book, the colours faded by age. “That was my favourite, man!”  
“I know,” Mike replied with a chuckle. “I’ve got about a dozen others, and these.” With that, he held up a handful of knitted finger puppets. Ty’s whoop of joy made everyone wince. 

“Brenda made these,” Olaf said slowly, and for once, there was a very heavy tone of sadness in his voice. “I thought they’d be history by now, too.”

Dawn looked up at the tone of his voice and tilted her head

Ty noticed her look and put the book down. “Brenda is... was... our granny.”  
“Oh.” Dawn swallowed and cleared her throat. “I see.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Olaf’s cheerfulness returned. “Funny old thing, these showing up right now when we all can use a little positive family history,” he said. “What else have you got?”

Mike’s smile turned into a grin and he looked at Anders. Anders crossed his arms and cocked his eyebrows.

“Look who is here,” Mike said in his best imitation of a grandfather crooning at a baby and held up a teddy bear. “It’s Bob!”

At that moment, Anders could have said, and should have said, what Mike and everyone else expected and wanted to hear: ‘Hey Bob, long time no see, fancy that’ or something of that sort. It would have made everything so much easier, but for some strange reason, the words forced themselves out and of course, after that there was no going back.

“That’s not Bob.”  
Mike’s smile fell a little. “What? Of course that’s Bob. I found him under your bed after you moved out!”  
Anders still had his arms crossed and pressed his lips together. “Maybe,” he said after a moment. “But it’s not Bob.” He really, really could have done without that particular set of memories. Why couldn’t he have kept his bloody mouth shut?  
Mike put the bear down again and tilted his head. “How many teddy bears did you have back then? I thought there was only Bob?”

Anders didn’t want to go down that road. He really didn’t. But for whatever stupid reason he had blurted it out and of course neither Mike nor Ty would let it rest now. 

“But... if that’s not Bob...”  
“Ty, you were a baby when...” Anders pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. “Look, can we not talk about this stupid fucking teddy bear, please?”  
“But... what’s wrong?” Ty looked more worried than confused.  
“Nothing. It happened more than thirty years ago and I don’t wanna go back there. That’s not Bob, end of story.”

Mike looked at the teddy bear and then back at Anders.

“Jesus fucking Christ, will you stop?”  
“No need to bristle like that, Anders. I thought I was doing you a favour. Or at least make you smile.”  
Anders dropped his arms with a heavy sigh. “Sorry. Sorry, I don’t... Just... can we forget about this, please?”

“What did he do?” Olaf suddenly asked.  
Anders very slowly turned around to face him. “What the fuck?”  
“Every time you get like this, it’s got something to do with the shit Johann did back then.”  
“Why is that fucking teddy bear suddenly so fucking important?” Anders crossed his arms again.

“Anders, we talked about bottling things in and...”  
Anders spun around to look at Ty. “Jesus fucking Christ will you stop that? Bottling stuff in? There’s nothing to bottle in, that was thirty fucking years ago and I am not going to have a meltdown in front of my brothers because of a fucking thirty year old teddy bear!”

Ty swallowed, and his voice sounded very small, and very young, all of a sudden. “But what happened?”  
“Why do you even want to know?”

Anders was aware that everyone was looking at him. 

“Do you all _want_ me to have a meltdown because of this?” He asked sharply.  
“Anders for fuck’s sake, of course not,” Mike gave back. “But this... it was meant to cheer us all up, and now I’ve hurt you and I wanna know why!”

Anders threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat. “Fine. Fine!” He rolled his shoulders. “So here’s what happened. That’s not Bob, and you know why? One day Johann and Mum came home, I think it was Sunday but what the fuck, they’ve been out to town. I think they’ve been down at the fun fair or something, and that’s where Johann got that stupid bear. Must have won it, because he sure as fuck wouldn’t have bought it. And when they came home, he wanted to go all Good And Jovial Dad on me and give me the bear, which I didn’t want because I had Bob.”

The silence around him turned into something uncomfortable as everyone was beginning to get a premonition of what was about to happen.

“So he wanted me to have that fucking bear because it was newer and bigger than Bob, and I didn’t take it because Bob was all I wanted. And then he got so angry about me daring to refuse his noble and generous gift that he threw that bear at me before tearing Bob out of my hands. He told me to pick it up, and I did.”  
“And he threw Bob into the dumpster...” Ty muttered.  
“No,” Anders said, venomous humour in his voice. “He burned him in the kitchen stove.”

For a long time, no one spoke. The silence was so heavy and uncomfortable that it was hard to breathe, and suddenly there was Russell’s scared and tiny voice.

“Did you cry?”

Anders almost jumped and slowly turned around to look at the terrace door and the little boy who was standing in the doorframe, clutching his alligator so hard his fingers were white. Above him, Axl’s head hovered in the doorway as well, and he looked as if someone had just hit him with a frying pan.

“That wasn’t meant for your ears, Russ,” Anders said in a heavy voice and walked up to him, then crouched down. “But... well. I did. But it was a long, long time ago. And in case you are scared now... I won’t ever do anything like that. Never, ever. I like Al far too much, and he’s your best friend. You’re buddies, you and he, you’re a team. I’d never hurt him, as little as I would hurt you.”

Russell hesitated for a moment, then he nodded. His grip on Al loosened a bit, and Anders got up and ruffled the boy’s hair. 

After a heavy sigh, Dawn put down a platter on the kitchen counter with a decisive move. Her voice was firm and bright. 

“Cupcakes, anyone?”

* * *

Russell was even more silent, and somehow very thoughtful, at bedtime that evening. Anders could easily guess what was on the boy’s mind, and was proven right when he had tucked him in and Russell turned around again to look at him.

“Did you cry a lot?”  
Anders didn’t have to ask. “I did. But it got better.”  
“Are you still sad?”  
“No,” he said. “I was sad, yes, for a long time. But that is so long ago now... no, I’m not sad anymore. Some things stop hurting when you grow up.” _And some things never do._  
“Do you miss him?”

After a deep breath, Anders managed a smile and ruffled Russell’s hair. “Go to sleep, buddy. It’s getting late.”

Russ was fully aware his question was being wilfully ignored, but he didn’t say anything else and just curled up again. 

“Good night, Russ.”  
“Night, Anders.”

Anders let his breath escape him in a heavy huff after closing the door behind him. 

What a stupid fuck-up. Mike had been disconsolate about having torn open an old wound and refused to believe when Anders said it didn’t matter anymore. Because it really didn’t. It was thirty years ago. He could have done without those memories, but he wasn’t going to have a meltdown because of a fucking thirty year old teddy bear.

To take his mind off the things that happened that day Anders watched a movie, keeping the door of the living room open to be able to hear Russell should he call. At one point he thought he could hear footsteps, but when he looked, there was no one at the top of the stairs, and he couldn’t hear anything, either. He returned to watching some more crap until he was finally tired enough to go to bed. 

After leaving the door to his bedroom slightly ajar he walked past the bed, switched on the bedside lamp and headed for the bathroom. It was as he came out again that he almost had a heart attack when he saw something large and dark lying on the bed.

Anders took a cautious step forward, and then his heart dropped into his stomach. He sat down on the bed, and looked at the alligator that was lying on his pillow.

His fingers were trembling when he picked it up. And after running one finger along Al’s ridged and furry back, he lay down, pulled the duvet over his head and curled around the little plush animal. And if there were tears trickling into Al’s dark green fur, then no one was there who could have seen it.

Great. He _was_ having a meltdown because of a fucking thirty year old teddy bear.

* * *

When Anders woke up again that night it wasn’t because Russell was crying, but because he was standing in the doorway. 

“Anders?”  
Despite his mind still trying to wake up Anders managed to get himself into a sitting position. “Uh?”  
Russell’s voice trembled a little. “There’s a monster under my bed.”  
“Oh.” Anders blinked a few times to clear his eyes. “I guess you need Al back, then.” 

He peeled himself out of the bed, and with Al in one hand and Russell’s hand in his other walked towards the door. “Thanks for letting me borrow him.”  
“Al said he’s sorry that you lost your teddy.”  
“That’s very nice of him.”  
“And he said that he wanted to sleep with you tonight so you wouldn’t be so sad.”  
“He’s a great guy, Al is.” Anders felt a small lump in his throat. “It’s really appreciated.”

Once in Russell’s bedroom, Anders was at a bit of a loss as to how you deal with monsters under beds. The cause of his nightmares had always slept in the bed next door, not under his own. 

After looking at Russell he decided that feeling ridiculous didn’t feature in this one, so he looked Al firmly in the eyes. “Okay, buddy, here’s what we do.”

Then he lowered himself down and flat onto his stomach and shoved himself halfway under the bed, Al in attendance. 

“So here’s the deal,” he said to the dust bunnies. “Al the Alligator is back, and he will kick your sorry behinds if you don’t lop off. Got it?”

And on a sudden impulse, he took the largest bit of lint and stuck it onto one of Al’s teeth while making a squeaky noise. Rarely had he felt that stupidly ridiculous in his life. Probably never. Definitely never ever before. 

He crawled out from under the bed and presented Russell with the proof that Al could deal with any monster under any bed.

Watching Russell’s facial expression as he slid into bed again, Anders had to bite his tongue to keep himself from yelling at the boy to fucking smile already. He tucked Russell in, switched off the light, and only when he was back in his own bed did he realise that there had been no crying that night, and no tears.


	24. Chapter 24

Sometimes, the worst things can be the cause of something good. That is what Anders discovered after that terrible Saturday when Russell had asked him when he would have to go back to Wellington. That, and the subsequent day with the teddy bear disaster had changed something between them and had reduced the nightly panic attacks to an occasional monster under Russell’s bed. 

So all the panic attacks had been caused by Russell’s fear about being sent away again. Which, in turn, showed what it must have meant to him to come here. It still hurt to think of it. That all the time, he could have made the boy feel that much better if he had only known. 

Rose had told him that there was no way to look into people’s heads, sadly, but that she had known all along that something very deeply buried was weighing heavily on Russell’s mind. Of course she was a little dismayed when she learned what it was that had been torturing the boy, but there was no way to force these things, she had explained and added that the only course of action was to wait until he would be ready.

He wasn’t entirely sure what had made Russell ask in the first place, but he sure as fuck was glad it had happened. 

Acting purely on instinct, without thinking at all, Anders had hugged the boy and sat down with him in a tight embrace, but whatever it was that had enabled him to do that, it didn’t happen again. He couldn’t do it consciously, as it seemed. Unable to not only show deeper feelings but unable to let them happen in the first place Anders was stuck again. Apparently that particular suit of armour wasn’t gone after all, or maybe he was wearing the fucking things in layers. Probably the latter.

Looking at the Avengers lined up against the wall, Anders sat on the sofa and wondered if this was as good as it would get. There had been so many times during the last months when he had had that thought, and it somehow had gotten better after all. But even though he knew that there was something missing he had no idea how it could be achieved, since he didn’t even know what it was.

Part of what was missing at least was the fact that Russell still hadn’t smiled. And after all those times where Anders had thought that now, it would finally happen, he was losing hope. Having presented Russell with his school bag, an Iron Man backpack, had been the latest of those instances where Anders believed that now he would make the boy smile, but even if the delight about the bag was undeniable, there had been no smile.

The damage that uncaring parents had done to him seemed irreversible, but at least he wasn’t hand-shy anymore. That, and he dared to talk on his own, sometimes even disagree or object. But he would never be a happy boy again. If he had ever been one.

The analogy Rose had used was that Russell was a tortoise; he could get out of his shell, but only so far – one false move and he was gone again. And after the weeks of therapy Anders had been forced to accept that he himself was a porcupine. His armour was not designed to keep himself in, but to keep everyone else away. And the only way for someone to reach him was for him to roll over onto his back. Which in itself made more sense than Anders liked. Showing emotions wasn’t something that came easy to him, and trusting others with his emotions was even harder. Which was the reason he felt so raw and exposed when he had to rely on Ty to help him keep his sanity together. He could either keep it all in or let it all out, and neither was healthy. 

And that was where things had come to a standstill now. If he wanted to help Russell fight his demons, Rose had told him in no uncertain terms, he’d have to get his own under control first. And of course, that wasn’t going to happen. 

It wasn’t for the lack of trying. Anders did try, he really did. He didn’t try anymore to stomp on every memory he didn’t like, to get rid of it again. Rose had taught him a lot, too; and had given him advice and techniques for dealing with them, but he had perfected his mechanisms through the better part of three decades now. He was supposed to try and talk about them. But then, back to square one, he would have to roll over onto his back and expose himself, and the thought alone freaked him out. 

No, despite the progress, Anders still kept fucking it up, and now he was the reason things would never progress any further beyond what they had established by now. So maybe they were no longer coincidentally cohabiting strangers, and there was that feeling of warmth in his chest when he looked at the boy and thought of him as his son. But it would never be more. It could never be more.

And if Anders was perfectly honest with himself – which he rarely was, so this thought really hurt – then he wasn’t sure that even if he knew how to get rid of all those venomous spikes, he would dare to do so.

“You’re a coward,” he said to himself. “But that’s not really breaking news now, is it?”

He kept looking at Iron Man. Even if he destroyed all those suits of armour, he couldn’t destroy the one in which he was locked in, not without destroying himself. That last one he had to shed, but he couldn’t find the eject button. 

He liked that analogy better than the porcupine. 

But whatever analogy he used, he and Russell couldn’t get closer before they both hadn’t shed their armour, and Anders had to be the one making the first step. Rose kept telling him the same things along those lines every time. And he kept telling her the same things back every time. That he tried and couldn’t.

 _You have to want this_ , she would say. 

“But I do want it. I’m just a coward.”

_Sure. A pathetic little runt. No spirit, no strength. A coward. And without that asshole Bragi you’d still be a virgin when they carry you out feet first. You’re not even able to have a fuck without using godly powers. You’re not even a man, so how d’ya think you could ever be a father, you wimp?_

Anders crossed his arms and stared at the wall. 

_You keep fucking up. Everything you touch turns into shit. And that fucking slick tongue can’t solve the problem of you being a hopeless coward. And no one loves a coward, you pansy. There’s nothing lovable about you, you ugly pug._

Anders got up and, arms still crossed, walked over to the kitchen. Johann’s invisible spectre followed him through the room. 

He had talked to Rose about that particular phenomenon, and she had told him that it was a way for his subconscious mind to communicate with him about all the issues he had with himself. 

_Come on, your own mother couldn’t love you. How could anyone else?_

April hadn’t loved her son, either. She had tried, but she had failed in the same way Elizabeth had. And while Russell hadn’t had a father – or stepfather in his case – as brutally violent as Johann, the pattern was the same. The damage was the same. Only with Russell, someone had gotten him out of there before he was destroyed. Damaged, but not destroyed. 

_No one loves you, you pathetic loser. And you’re too much of a slick asshole on an ego trip to love anyone apart from yourself._

Anders looked at the fridge door. And he thought of Robin Hood, of naming fish, of monsters under beds, of a tiny finger on his face and of an alligator in his bed. He looked at the fridge door, and at the laminated picture he had put there: two crooked, ugly stick figures holding hands. 

“So maybe I can’t make him feel loved, but I could make him feel safe, and that’s more than you ever did, you asshole.” He uncrossed his arms, picked the picture off the fridge door and looked at it for a long time. “Maybe he doesn’t love me, but did I ever give you a drawing of the two of us?”

Anders put the picture back onto the fridge door, adjusted the magnets until they were exactly aligned to the corners, and picked up his phone. Eight twenty-one pm. Not too late to make a call.

“Hey,” he said when Dawn picked up. “I was wondering if you two would mind coming over for a drink and a bit of a chat?”

* * *

Ty and Dawn had listened to him with grave faces, and had, gently and carefully, helped him to take the first step with getting over his deeply ingrained insecurities. He had brought up the issue of Bob and his demise again, and the thirty year delayed meltdown facilitated by an alligator, and was surprised how good it felt to empty his heart about it to someone who he could rely on wouldn’t give him shit and laugh at him. 

And after having broken the ice, Anders was suddenly able to confront himself about a lot of things. It wasn’t easy, never would be; but every time a certain topic came up and he was able to not bottle it in, he chalked that up under having one of those venomous spikes torn out. 

And subsequently, as he began to come to terms with himself, he was able to open up more to his son, with the immediate effect being a sudden progress in the trust building exercises. 

Exactly like Rose told him it would be. Anders was beginning to not only to think, but in small ways even to feel like a father.

* * *

It seemed such a small achievement, but when Russell presented Anders with a piece of paper with both their names on it, written in crooked, wobbly letters and with every S facing the wrong way, Anders was so ridiculously proud – and he told Russell as much – that the boy fidgeted and bit his lips. 

It was strange, somehow, but not in a bad way. Was that how a father was supposed to feel? Being proud and happy about every small thing and step into the right direction? It had to be. And Anders had to admit it didn’t only make Russell feel good.

Anders smiled at his son and praised his skill, and wondered how it felt to him. How it would feel when someone said Well Done instead of Not Good Enough. He saw the light in Russell’s eyes when he patted his shoulder, and realised that even if he would never know the feeling, his son definitely would. 

He was half-expecting and half hoping the boy to finally smile now, but even though Russell’s delight was undeniable, there was still no smile. 

It seemed like Russell had found his feet and adjusted to the new school well enough. It had all happened so fast, too fast for the boy probably, and sometimes Anders felt as if he hadn’t quite caught up with everything that had happened either. But both of them were adjusting, if slowly. 

And Russell had made a huge progress already. Within the months he had stayed with Anders he had learned how to tie his shoes, brush his teeth, eat properly with a knife and fork, and write his own name. He had also learned to take care of his own business, which was the first thing Anders had insisted on. He would never understand how April could have let him go to school like that. They had most likely told him only to poop at home, and by the way things had been, Russell must have complied.

But most importantly, Russell had learned that the world was not necessarily a cold and cruel place. 

And within a few years, Anders realised as he looked at his son who had retreated behind the sofa again to play with his Avengers, he would have to deal with a teenager. That thought immediately led to another: At one point in the future, he would have to have The Talk. It was hard to imagine when he looked at Russell now and listened to him making Hulk-noises. For the time being, he would focus on the management of time tables and helping with the homework and let the hormones do their job.

* * *

With more ease between them Russell had dare to ask Anders one day if he could help with making dinner. Anders was about to say no, but looking at the boy’s hopeful eyes, decided against it. Not quite knowing what else to task him with he handed Russell the mortar and told him to pound the rosemary, and the boy set to it with ardent zeal and was practically glowing with pride at Anders’s praise. 

Anders dared to take it a step further and handed him two red peppers next. He showed him how to hold the knife, how to slice the pepper open and scrape the seeds out, and how to chop it into pieces. And with his tongue sticking out in concentration Russell took the next pepper and eyed it as if it was his mortal enemy.

Every time Anders looked over his shoulders at the table he had to quickly look away again, but to his surprise, the peppers got diced without the need to utilise band aids. But the same moment that Anders wondered about why there was so little in the bowl he also noticed that Russell was still chewing. 

He cocked one eyebrow and Russell swallowed hastily. Then Anders chuckled and shook his head with a smile before opening the fridge and tossing Russell another pepper. Russell picked it up with a somewhat apologetic look. 

But then, Russell was eager to learn and not half bad for an absolute beginner. Anders quickly found out that Russell could indeed help him and not only sit around tasked with small things just to keep him occupied. The potato peeler was mastered as quickly as the cheese grater – though Anders kept an eye on that and took over if the piece was getting too small – and with some things, like peeling cloves of garlic, Anders was all too happy to be able to outsource. 

He bought Russell his own apron. Still no smile, but the boy beamed with pride nonetheless.

* * *

The first time they had taken Emma home with them to play – after some serious organizing and a last-minute car seat transfer – Anders had worried himself half to death. As it turned out however, to Anders’s big surprise, having another child over was actually a very pleasant thing. For the rest of that Friday afternoon, Russell and Emma were more or less out of sight and mostly out of earshot as well, upstairs in Russell’s room for almost all the time apart from those few instances they came down to beg for cookies. 

Shortly before dinner time Emma’s mother came to pick her up but politely declined the offered cup of coffee. By the way she looked at him, she hadn’t quite put the event on the playground behind her, and Anders decided that next time, he’d bring the topic up to get it out of the way. 

Anders had to admit that he felt a certain attraction to her, but she was a no-nonsense business woman, a graphic designer, as he had learned in one of the few small talks they’d had during drop-off or pick-up time. She was always dressed immaculately in pencil skirts and dress-shoes with a modest heel, and her pale blonde hair was always pulled back into a bun were not a single hair was out of line. 

She wasn’t really his type, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she looked like when she let her hair down. But what really did it for him were her eyes. They were a light grey, like unpolished silver, and they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen in a woman, hook-up or otherwise. Sometimes he couldn’t help but imagine what those eyes would look like blown wide with arousal, or clouded with delicious exhaustion after an orgasm. It was a very distracting train of thoughts.

What made matters worse was that he had never seen a trace of a husband. And since it was always her who dropped Emma off and picked her up again, he began to wonder if she was a single parent as well. 

But all that was one of the few things he allowed himself to bottle in and lock firmly away. He had no intention to make life awkward or difficult for Russell because he had riled his best friend’s mother.

At a few instances he had flirted with Carolyn, an extremely attractive woman with beautiful hair and bright eyes and bright spirit. Yet, as it turned out, she was married and had apparently thought it was a game and nothing serious, and had just enjoyed the attention. And not only that, she was married to the man who had confronted him on the playground, Frank, or whatever his name was, that stupid bastard.

And Anders realised that fellow parents would have to remain off limits as a whole, even if there were quite a few eye candies among the mothers in the childcare centre. And again, no making things more difficult for Russell than they already were, so nope, those women were definitely non-fuckable. Apart from that, most of them were married anyway, which was a no-go no matter how the woman looked.

And the first time he had made Emma’s mother a compliment all he had gotten in return was such a displeased look that he had backpedalled and sworn to himself he would never even think about flirting with her again. 

So apparently he hadn’t been neutered after all, but now he really would have to put more effort in learning not to think with his dick anymore.


	25. Chapter 25

The trip to the beach had been Emma’s idea, and even if Emma’s mother, and Anders too, had been reluctant, the children had been so enthusiastic that they had caved in. They had agreed on who was to bring what and so Anders was supplying coffee and sandwiches and Christine soda and cake. 

It was a bright sunny Saturday, and sitting on a blanket in the dunes – Mission Bay Beach had been considered too overrun for a peaceful picnic – Anders and Christine sat in companionable silence and watched their respective children run up and down the beach chasing seagulls.

The last time Anders had picked up Russell at Emma’s place, Anders had accepted the coffee that had most likely only been offered out of politeness, and had engaged Christine in the conversation about the playground incident. They had managed to confront their respective feelings and then put it behind them. 

And now that they were sitting there, Anders had to force himself not to look at her too much. When Christine and Emma had arrived at their place that morning, Anders had hardly been able to recognise the woman entering his house as the Christine Parker he knew. No pencil skirt and starched blouse, no tightly pulled bun, no dress shoes. Instead she wore a pair of old jeans, sneakers, a mossy green t-shirt and a champagne coloured cardigan, and her hair was hanging loosely down her shoulders in soft waves. And she wore glasses with a delicate golden frame that accentuated her eyes.

But of course, at one point she noticed Anders looking at her and smiled at him with raised eyebrows. 

“Do I have chocolate on my cheek?” She asked with a smile and a glint in her eyes.  
Anders cleared his throat and settled for something as close to the truth as possible. “No, I’m sorry, but I was wondering... about the glasses, actually.”  
Christine laughed softly. “Oh, those.” She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wear contact lenses to work. Don’t ask me why, but I have the feeling I get taken more serious when I don’t wear glasses. So on weekends I indulge myself with not having to poke around in my eyes twice a day.”

Then she looked him up and down. He was wearing a pair of slacks and his favourite green shirt, clothes he felt comfortable in and at ease. “Do you ever dress down?”  
Anders had to chuckle. “I wear suits and tie to work. This is me dressed down.” They shared a laugh before Anders continued with a wink. “I do own a pair of sweatpants, though. Reserved for slumming evenings away in front of the TV.”

Her eyes crinkled with amusement. “You mentioned you own a PR Agency.”  
“JPR,” Anders confirmed. “And I think I actually employed your agency a few times. I’m not a pro with graphic design.”  
“The name JPR does ring a bell,” Christine gave back. “I might have actually worked on a few of your projects.”  
“See, we were fated to meet.” It was out before Anders realised it.

Christine, who had mostly been looking out at sea, now slowly turned to look at him; her silver eyes seemed like mother-of-pearl in the bright sunlight. A strand of hair blew across her face and she tucked it away again.   
God, she was more than pretty like this. She was beautiful.

Fuck.

Christine noticed the change in his mood and questioningly raised her eyebrows. Anders wished at that point that she was still wearing that bun, so her hair wouldn’t distract him. Or not wearing glasses so his eyes weren’t constantly drawn to hers. 

Then she slowly tilted her head. Their eyes met and locked.

“Is there something on your mind?” She asked slowly.  
“Only that I never noticed how beautiful you are,” Anders replied with a crooked, hesitant smile.  
Christine dropped her head with a soft laugh. “God, it’s been a while since someone said that.” She lifted her head again, yet didn’t look back at him but at the sea. “Emma’s father left before she was a year old.”  
“That’s tough,” Anders gave back and followed her eyes. Russell and Emma were building a sandcastle close to the waterline. “He’s a first class idiot to give you and Emma up. She’s a lovely girl.”

Christine sighed, and after a moment, she said in a low voice: “He wanted more children. And we... well, we tried for several years. Then it turned out that there was something wrong with my... with me, and in the end, IVF was the only thing that worked. And then Emma was diagnosed with a heart defect at one of the check-ups.” She paused, and Anders had no clue what so say, so he kept his mouth shut. “She was delivered via Caesarean as early as they dared to, and she had to undergo several surgeries before she was ten weeks old. And that did it for him, I guess. He never said so but...” She shrugged. “He wanted kids. Three or four at least, he had always said. And then, after all that time, the child he had been waiting for was... well. Damaged goods, probably. He couldn’t deal with the sight of her in the incubator. He began to withdraw, and I’m sure he was cheating on me before he told me he wanted a divorce.”  
“Asshole,” Anders said sharply. “He doesn’t deserve someone like you, or Emma.”

Christine still looked straight ahead with a sad and wistful smile. “I have arrived at that conclusion as well. I think after the first few years he was already beginning to inwardly withdraw when he began to realise his big gaggle of kids wasn’t going to happen. Not with me, at least.”  
“He’s still an asshole. It sounds as if he only married you to have a brood mare.”  
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “But I loved him. And I don’t miss him, but sometimes...” She shook her head. “I sometimes wish he hadn’t left, that we had managed to work through all that together... life can be pretty lonely. Single mothers aren’t exactly flying off the shelves.”  
“Neither are single fathers,” Anders replied in a low voice. 

His heart was beating faster than it had any right to as Christine slowly, very slowly, turned her head to look at him. There was something new in her eyes, a softness he hadn’t seen before, and he slowly inched his right hand forward so his fingers touched hers. And to his surprise, she closed her fingers around them.

“No,” she whispered softly. “I’m sorry, Anders but... no.” She let go of his hand and turned away to look at the sea again, her eyes on the horizon.  
Anders felt like punched in the guts. “Sorry,” he said and cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to...”  
“Oh, you did,” she said in a gentle voice. “And... I’m sorry. I can’t.” She drew up her legs and slung her arms around them. “I... I hate that ‘Let’s rather be friends’ crap as much as the next person. And the ‘It’s not because of you but because of me’, because that’s usually just a cheap excuse. Only this... it’s the truth. It is because of me, and not you.” She swallowed hard.

“I understand...” Anders said and stared at the horizon as well. “I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”  
“You’re not, I am. I just...” Then she turned her head and looked at him, and Anders hesitantly faced her again as well. “It really is because of me. I’ve been... it’s... every relationship I’ve had in my life ended in anger, accusations and bad feelings, and that includes two marriages. I’ve divorced two husbands, or they me, or whatever. It’s... I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry Anders...”  
Anders shrugged, but before he could say anything, she went on.  
“It’s not because I don’t want this. I do want this, or I would... but I can’t. I just can’t do this.” Her voice was the tiniest bit unsteady. “Not this, not with you. I don’t want my daughter to lose her best friends over this... even if it’s probably going to happen now anyway...”  
“No, it won’t.” Anders shook his head. “It’s... it’s probably going to be a bit awkward for a time, but as long as we both act like adults about this...”

They sat in silence for a while. 

“I’m sorry I have to do this to you.” Christine was still staring at the horizon.  
“From what I understand you’re doing it to yourself as well,” Anders replied in a low voice.  
“Still...”

Anders would have liked to say something smart, something conciliatory, or something comforting. But the truth was that he didn’t even know what he felt, let alone what to say, apart from begging her to reconsider because he apparently had it pretty bad for her. So he just shrugged.   
And then he shook his head with a crooked smile. Just like Russell when he was confronted with a question that he didn’t want to answer.

They both couldn’t meet each other’s eyes anymore for the rest of the day.

But since Anders was a pro in bottling things in and get rid of feelings, outwardly at least, he was able to act as if nothing had ever happened, thus enabling her to relax again in his presence. Russell and Emma remained oblivious about that particular conflict between their respective parents, which was all that either of said parents wanted, really. 

So instead of mooning over Christine, Anders decided to ask Ty and Dawn for another free weekend and set to satisfying his rampaging libido with two hook-ups and alcohol (and almost some snow but he had been able to stop himself in time). Wild and dirty fucking in hotel beds. 

His heart wasn’t really in it anymore, though.

* * *

As every child, Russell aced in topics he loved – everything to do with language and music, and to an extent, the sciency stuff – and he struggled with others. He hated athletics and numbers and equations just didn’t make much sense to him. Luckily Anders had always been good with numbers, and with time, he learned how to explain things on a level that Russell could understand. 

And as Russell discovered his love for music, they went through Anders’s LP collection on weekends, Russell’s eyes wide in delight every time he heard something new. And to Anders’s surprise, the boy was utterly careful and gentle in handling the old vinyl. And whenever he hummed along a tune he knew, Anders noticed that he was really good at holding the notes, and his voice, when he dared to sing – which wasn’t often, and only very quietly – was soft and sweet. Russell was heartbroken when he was told that the school choir only took kids from year three upward. 

But then, one day when Anders picked Russell up after school, the boy was so agitated he had trouble talking and got entangled in his own sentences all the time. It took Anders a while to figure out the reason for his excitement: They had talked about Vikings, and as a fan of Thor the Mighty, Russell had been over the moon.

He was bobbing in his car seat on the way home. “Do you... do you... Anders, do you... do you know stuff about Vikings?”  
Anders had a hard time keeping a straight face. “Some. What do you wanna know?”  
“Everything!”  
Anders had to laugh. “That’s a lot.”  
“Do you know Odin has a horse with eight legs? Eight legs! I bet he’s really fast! Like, really fast! The fastest horse in all the world!”

Anders shook his head with a small smile. Wasn’t this kind of childish blathering something that had freaked him out, back when he had made his decision in Wellington? And now... now he was happy to listen to it, because it meant Russell was healing, making progress and becoming more and more like a normal boy.

“And Thor really has a hammer that can fly, and comes back to him! Like those things in Aus... Australia, those things... boom... boomerbangs things...”  
“Boomerangs,” Anders replied with a chuckle. “Yes, it does.”  
“And... and... and... the Vikings, they had ships! With dragon heads! And... and everyone was afraid of them! And they killed everyone and...” He took a deep breath. “And they all had swords and axes and... and... and some of them even sailed to New Zealand and that’s why we have Norsewood!” 

His eyes were wide and bright, or the part of them that was visible behind his bangs. Russell seemed to be the only one not bothered by those stray strands of hair in his face. 

“And they had lots of gods like Odin and Thor, only different, because some of them were lady gods, and... and... and they had all long hair and dresses, but Frigg could also fight with a sword! Frigg is Thor’s mum, you know?”  
“I know,” Anders said, trying not to laugh. It was delightful. To his surprise. “What other gods did you learn about?”  
“Loki!” Russell’s eyebrows drew together. “But he’s a stinker.”  
At that, Anders had to laugh out loud, and it was a good thing he was standing in a queue at a traffic light. “He is a stinker. Who else?”  
“Heimdall! He see’s everything! Everywhere! And Odin has two ravens! And... and... and they tell him everything they see! But...” His face fell a little. “I forgot their names...”  
Anders had to think for a moment. “Hugin and Munin.”  
“Yes!” 

Christ, how could the boy be like that and still not smile? How was that even possible?

Russell was still so excited that he could hardly sit still during dinner time, and he kept riddling Anders with questions until he had to admit his knowledge was exhausted. The questions had even replaced bedtime reading that night. 

“But you know what?” Anders said as he pulled up Russell’s duvet. “Cousin Olaf knows far more about it than I do. We could ask him to come to visit on Sunday or Saturday, and you can talk about gods and Vikings all day!”

Russell nodded enthusiastically and kept brushing back strands of hair that immediately kept falling back into his eyes. The constant fruitless moves made Anders twitch.

“Night, Russ.”  
“Night, Anders. Anders?”  
“Hm?”  
“If you would be a god, who would you be?”  
“Uhm.” Anders faltered. “Someone really important, I guess. So the others would listen to me.”  
“Like Odin?”  
“No, not Odin, I don’t think I could pull off the one-eyed look.”  
“Then who?”

Anders pursed his lips, and then he thought, what the fuck, why not? “Bragi.”  
“Bragi?” Russell sat up again. “Who’s Bragi?”  
“God of poetry.”  
“Poetry?” Russell asked with an expression of utter confusion. “Viking poetry?”  
“Viking poetry. He also speaks every language.”  
“Cool... I wanna be Bragi too!”  
Anders laughed. “Speak every language? I bet that could come in handy every now and then. Good night, Russ.”  
Russ fell back into his pillow again. “Night, BragiAnders.”

Anders was still chuckling when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

* * *

Anders turned the idea of inviting Olaf over into inviting the family over for a barbie. Russell was glowing in anticipation at the thought of all his aunts and uncles and Cousin Olaf coming to visit; he loved family gatherings. Probably part of the reason why those were happening so often lately.

As usual, Axl was the first to arrive, and, always keen on cheering Russell up, engaged the boy in a conversation about fish. They both stood and looked at the fish tank when Anders came back inside from depositing beer in the cooler. 

“So which one of those are yours?”  
“Those two.” Russell pointed at the bottom right.   
“Cool. What are they?”  
“Catfish.”  
“And what are their names?”  
“Jake and Elrond.”

Axl almost choked on his beer. 

“Cool,” he said again after wiping a stray droplet off his chin. “Are they trying to get the shoal back together?”  
Russell looked up at him in complete puzzlement.  
“Axl...” Anders said. “Don’t.”  
“They’re eighy-five centimetres away from the surface, have a tank full of water and are wearing...” He squinted through the glass. “Moustaches.”  
Anders pinched the bridge of his nose while Russell just tilted his head in confusion. “Axl, get out and get the fire started.”

Chuckling, Axl went outside. He immediately stuck his head in again, however. “And they’re on a mission from Cod!”  
Anders set off in the direction of the door. “Axl Johnson I’m going to kick that sit-eating grin right out of your face!”

Axl vanished again and giggled like an idiot when Anders gave chase and pretended to kick him.

They left a completely befuddled Russell behind.

* * *

When Anders told Olaf about Russell’s newest hobbyhorse Olaf was as delighted as Russell had been the first day on his way home in the car. Olaf settled down on the floor close to the terrace door and Russell sat down in front of him, and when Olaf leaned back against the wall after stretching out his long legs and went into full ‘Seer Telling Tales Of Old’ mode, Russell was as if magicked away. 

Anders was sitting outside with the others while Mike was tending to the barbie, and he, and the others, would cast occasional glances towards the door where Olaf told his stories, his voice deep and smooth, his hands gesturing slowly as if painting pictures for the tales. Russell didn’t take his eyes off him for a second, and Anders had to admit that being told these stories like that, instead of just reading them or having them read, was something different. Even he found himself listening to Olaf, almost despite himself.

And every time he looked, Russell had inched closer to Olaf, who seemed unaware of the fact. But at one point Anders looked up to see Russell sitting on Olaf’s right leg, and Olaf had one hand resting loosely and cautiously on the boy’s lower back while the other was still waving through the air to summon whatever magic it was that he wielded.

At one point Olaf announced he had to take a break because he was thirsty, but before he could get up, Anders had quickly grabbed a beer out of the cooler and walked over to offer it to him. 

“He knows everything!” Russell breathed, his eyes wide in adoration.  
“Told you so,” Anders said with a smile and as Olaf put the bottle down again their eyes met. 

Olaf smiled, a very kind and gentle smile, and then focussed on Russell again.

His beer almost forgotten in his hand, Anders watched them with a small smile, when suddenly an arm was draped around his shoulders.

“Good to have a family, isn’t it?”  
Anders looked at Mike with a slightly crooked smile. “Even if it’s a family like you lot,” he said and took a sip of beer.  
Mike chuckled and let go of him. “Think we’ll ever tell him?”  
“Fuck if I know,” Anders said under his breath and took another sip of beer. “But maybe not. We have no way to prove it, and he only thinks we’re all nutcases.”  
“You mean we aren’t?”

Anders shook his head with a smile and they brought their bottles together with a clunk before knocking them back.

“I will tell you now of the time the giants had stolen Thor’s hammer,” Olaf said in that deep voice, and Russell went as still as a statue on Olaf’s thigh after clutching Al a little tighter.


	26. Chapter 26

Russell was somewhat aware of the fact people had birthdays; he had been invited to various birthday parties of classmates already, and after Anders’s birthday had been to Mike’s party too. He was also aware that he had a birthday as well, but it was only when Anders brought the subject up that the boy realised it would be in two weeks.

But whatever Anders had expected, it wasn’t this: Russell having been told he’d be six years old in two weeks, and the boy had said: “Oh.”  
And that was it. Oh.

No bouncing around in excitement, asking about parties, cakes, candles, presents and friends. Just: Oh.

Apparently, he hadn’t made the connection of other kids’ birthday parties to his own birthday. That having birthdays in general meant having birthday parties. Or at least... other kids had birthday parties. 

Anders didn’t have the heart to ask if anyone had ever thrown Russell a birthday party.

The thought alone hardened his resolve to give Russ the birthday party to end all birthday parties. He could label it as the first birthday as a school kid, first birthday as Russell Johnson, first birthday in Auckland, or all of those together. 

And so he began rounding up his brothers and Olaf to help. He wrote invitations and handed them out to Russell’s classmates, collected the replies and made shopping lists. And he spent a lot of time thinking about presents. 

And come Friday morning, Russell got up and bounded down the stairs, and his eyes widened in delight when he saw the breakfast table decorated with confetti.

“Hey, Russ.” Anders had just poured himself a coffee and walked around the kitchen counter. “Happy Birthday!”  
Russell was chewing his lower lip and it almost looked like as if he was wilfully keeping himself from smiling.  
“Looking forward to the party?” Anders put the cup onto the counter and crouched down.  
Clutching Al to his chest Russell nodded mutely, but his eyes were bright and shiny. 

Despite all the progress and all the work, it still did cost Anders quite an effort, but he opened his arms. Russell let go of his lip and his tongue darted out in a quick flick, then he hunched his shoulders. But then he stepped forward and, shyly and hesitantly, touched Anders’s shoulder with the side of his face. Anders cautiously closed his arms around the boy. “Happy Birthday, Russ. Many happy returns.” He tightened the embrace for a moment before letting go, as he could already feel the boy tense up. 

Russell seemed excited during breakfast, but not once he asked about the party, cake or presents.  
Anders kept smiling to himself. Apparently Russell didn’t expect much.

Boy, was he in for a surprise.

* * *

Anders had written on the invitation that Russell would be the last guest to arrive, to make the surprise as big as possible. So when he picked him up from school that day he didn’t drive home immediately; he took him to the store to stall for time and give all the guests a chance to arrive. And when they had reached the aisle with sweets and candies, he told Russell to pick anything he wanted.

That offer seemed to short-circuit something in Russell’s mind. For a moment, it looked as if his brain was having a blue screen. 

“Anything?” He asked after a moment.  
“Anything. It’s your birthday.”

Since Al stayed at home during school hours Russell wasn’t able to draw comfort from embracing his friend, and it showed. He kept picking at his fingers and kneaded his hands, but in the end, he had a bag of Pascall Jet Planes in his hands and stared at it for a long moment before looking unhappily up at Anders.

“I can’t decide,” he said meekly.  
“Between those and?”  
Russell swallowed and hunched his shoulders. “Physalis.”

Anders blinked like an owl, then had to laugh. “Oh Russ...” He shook his head with an affectionate smile. “Physalis are fruit, not candy, so they don’t count. If you want physalis, then I buy them any time you want.”  
Russell’s eyes widened. “Really?”  
“Really really.  
“So I can...” He bit his lip and his eyes widened even more. “So I can... have both?”  
“I said so, didn’t I? You can have physalis any time you want, and the candy is for your birthday. So I buy the Jet Planes, and if you want physalis as well, then I’m going to buy physalis.”  
“Both?” Russell’s eyes were about to fall out of his head. “I can have both?”

Anders smiled and offered Russell his hand, and after taking it, they headed for the fruit aisle. It took him a while, but eventually Anders realised why it felt so different, all of a sudden. 

Russell wasn’t walking beside him, he was skipping. 

The smile that settled on Anders’s face felt strange, a kind of smile the feeling of which he didn’t recognise. He wondered what it looked like. 

Russell carried his treasures to the car, a punnet of physalis and a bag of Jet Planes, and held on to both after Anders had strapped him into the car seat.

“So,” he said brightly. “Looking forward to your party and your presents?”  
“Presents?” Russell’s look of awe turned into puzzlement and he looked at what was in his hands.  
Anders watched his face and suddenly realised that Russell expected those to be his birthday presents. “Yes, presents. You know, those things you get that are wrapped in paper?”

Russell looked up from his hands and Anders met his eyes in the rear view mirror. He could see the moment when Russell realised that what he had now were little gifts and not his actual birthday presents, and that those were waiting for him at home where the party would be. He grew very silent, and very still, and he still hadn’t said another word when they got out of the car.

Anders inwardly rubbed his hands and looked at Russell with hardly contained excitement before he opened the door and Russell stepped inside after him. 

He had tasked Olaf and his brothers with decorating the house, and they had pulled out all the stops. There were balloons and streamers everywhere, and hanging from the ceiling were huge, colourful cardboard letters spelling HAPPY 6TH BIRTHDAY RUSSELL JOHNSON. 

Everyone had been equipped with party hats and party blowouts, and the moment Russell stepped through the door they all hooted and yelled Happy Birthday and Russell almost jumped out of his skin. 

“Happy Birthday,” Anders said again as he crouched down beside Russell who was still clutching candy and physalis to his chest, staring open-mouthed at all those people and their kids grinning and clapping and hooting. Then he carefully pried the physalis and the bag of Jet Planes out of Russell’s almost unresisting fingers and put those on the kitchen counter. “Hey,” he said. “Have a look at your cake. Or cakes, rather. Uncle Ty and Auntie Dawn made cupcakes.”

“Cupcakes?” Russell whispered. It was hardly audible.  
“Cupcakes,” Anders confirmed and took the boy’s hand to lead him to the table. 

It was covered in cupcakes, and Ty and Dawn had outdone themselves. These weren’t just cupcakes. 

Using incredible amounts of fondant and icing and whatever else Anders couldn’t even begin to fathom, and with their combined incredible skills, they had created an array of beautiful cupcakes that looked like flowers and cactuses, and not two of them looked the same.

  


Meanwhile, the other kids were running in and out; they had immediately after arriving discovered that there were two doors leading outside to the terrace and were running in circles, in through one and out through the other while squealing in delight and changing directions ever so often.

But Russell was still frozen and stared at the table. His eyes widened, and kept darting to and fro and from cupcake to cupcake. 

The Johnsons reined in the excitement and looked at Russell who still had his mouth hanging open. 

“Are those for me?” Russell finally asked, so softly as if he hardly dared to breathe.  
“Of course they’re for you, Birthday Boy.” Anders crossed his arms with a smile. “Though I doubt you can eat them all so maybe you can share them with your friends?”

Russell looked up at Anders, and then his eyes roamed the room, with all the streamers, balloons and letters and the people wearing party hats. Then there was the heap of presents on the sofa, and finally, his eyes darted back to the cupcakes.

And then, it happened. 

Russell’s lips parted, then his eyes widened. And all of a sudden, his face was lit up by a smile so bright that it completely transformed his whole face. 

“Cactus cupcakes,” he whispered, and the smile widened even more, exposing shiny teeth, while his eyes crinkled and his cheeks suddenly revealed the most amazing pair of dimples. “Cactus cupcakes!” And then he spun around and yelled at his friends while running towards them: “I have cactus cupcakes! Colin! Emma! Marvin! I have cactus cupcakes!!”

Anders still had his arms crossed. He was able to keep a straight face, but his vision was blurring.

He felt Ty step beside him and he closed a hand around Anders’s shoulder.

“Did you see that?” Anders asked, and he didn’t even bother to try and keep the tremor out of his voice.  
“Yeah,” Ty gave back with a chuckle. “That was one happy little boy right there.”  
“No, I...” Anders wiped a hand down his face. “Did you see that? Did you see that smile?”  
“I did.” Ty’s voice softened. “It looks pretty amazing.”  
“He’s got dimples,” Anders said past the lump in his throat. “He’s got my dimples.”

Ty leaned back a little, and Anders looked up at him with a shake of his head. “He’s got dimples,” he said again. “I’ve never seen them before.” He dug the heel of his hand into one eye, then the other. “Fuck...”  
At that, Ty draped an arm around Anders’s shoulders.  
“He’s got my dimples...”  
Ty looked at him and smiled softly, then poked Anders’s cheek with a finger. “Nah, he doesn’t. You still have yours, bro.”

After blinking to clear his eyes, Anders smiled at him, and their eyes met. 

“Thank you,” Anders said to his brother. “Thank you... those cupcakes are magic.”  
“It’s not the cupcakes, man.” Ty gave Anders a quick hug. “No cupcake in the world would have made him smile if you hadn’t put so much effort into making him feel safe enough to do so.” Then he took a step back and looked at him. “It was a team effort.”

At that moment Russell came back, between Olaf and Axl who had him by his hands and were doing _One Two Three Wee!_

Russell was laughing. It was the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Candles!” Dawn yelled cheerfully over the ruckus of seven kids running around. Then she presented Russell with a cake, covered in white icing with a big red six surrounded by six burning candles. Russell smiled up at her, and her eyes were visibly misting over when she held out the cake to him. Then Russell took a deep breath and blew out all the candles in one go which earned him a round of cheerful applause.

“Your presents,” Olaf said and placed a green party hat onto Russell’s head. “Over there.”

It was apparent that by now, Russell was totally overwhelmed by the party in general and all those presents in particular. There were games and toys and books and after unwrapping it all, Russell sat there on the carpet in a heap of torn and shredded paper and looked like a birthday present himself that had been unwrapped and then forgotten. 

It was then that Anders handed him another wrapped gift, large, rectangular and heavy. Russell looked up at him, and with an excited smile, he took the heavy package and rested it on his knees. As he tore the paper apart it turned out to be a large, thick book, and the boy went very, very still when he turned the book around to look at the cover. It was a beautiful and lifelike watercolour and pencil drawing of a heavily built, one eyed man with long hair and a fierce beard who was riding an eight-legged horse.

“Odin...” Russell whispered and it sounded as if the god in question had manifested in front of him in person and not only in a drawing.  
“Norse God and Hero Sagas.” Anders quoted the title with a pleased smile. “All the gods and all the Viking heroes. Since we can’t squeeze Cousin Olaf in your bookshelf.”  
Russell looked up at him. “But I can’t read,” he said mournfully.  
“No, not yet.” Anders straightened his shirt. “But I can.”

At that, the amazing transformation took place again. Russell’s face lit up together with his eyes, and he hastily scrambled to his feet. And before Anders knew what happened, Russell had clamped his arms around Anders’s middle and pressed his face into his shirt. 

After a moment, Anders’s brain started working again and he bent down and picked Russell up. The boy then closed his legs around Anders’s hips and as they were on eye level now, they looked at each other with identical smiles.

“I got another one,” Anders said. “Dawnsie?”  
Dawn smiled and walked to the back of the kitchen where she removed a kitchen towel from a large glass bowl. She picked it up and placed it onto the kitchen counter in front of Russ.

  
  


“Convict cichlids,” Anders said. “Because of the black and white stripes.”  
Russell stared. “They’re so pretty...”  
“Do you like them?” Anders couldn’t suppress a smile as he adjusted the boy on his hip. “How are you gonna call them?”  
“Me?” Russell tore his eyes away from the fish and stared at Anders now.  
“Of course you. They’re yours.”  
“Mine?”  
“It’s your birthday, remember?”

Russell looked back at the fish. For at least another minute, he didn’t say anything. “The ravens...” He finally whispered. It sounded a little lost.  
“Hugin and Munin?” 

Russell looked up again and the smile returned. “Yes. Hugin and Munin, Odin’s Ravens.”

They looked at each other for a moment, surrounded by smiling family members who were discreetly, or in Axl’s case, not so discreetly, wiping their eyes. 

“Happy Birthday, Russ,” Anders said again. 

Russell’s smile could have put the sun to shame.


	27. Chapter 27

Anders had had a stressful day at work and was trying to get rid of someone on the phone. It was after work and he was on his way to therapy, he just wanted to grab some groceries for dinner and that stupid bitch refused to shut the fuck up. Russell had been a little tired after school and was daydreaming; he stopped and stared at a display with a huge cardboard chicken advertising chicken soup. Caught up in the phone call, Anders failed to notice.

It was only when Anders had finally been able to end the call without just cancelling it into the face of a prospective client that he realised Russell was gone, and he immediately made his way down to the fruits. 

Sure enough, Russell was standing next to the bananas, and he was talking to a middle aged lady. Or rather, she was talking to him.   
She was getting angry. And Anders could see by the way Russell hunched his shoulders that he was getting scared. He let go of the cart and sped up until he was almost running.

“Told you to wait at the bananas? Tell your parents they’re not supposed to let your older brother take you to the store if he can’t be bothered to take care of you! Outrageous!”  
Russell took a small step back. 

“Russ!”  
Russell sagged with relief as he spun around.  
“Hey.” Anders slowed down and noticed the lady look at him with murder in her eyes.   
“Tell him to wait at the bananas?” She crossed her arms. “The poor boy is supposed to stand here at the bananas until you’re finished shopping?”  
Anders ignored her. “You okay, Russ?” He put both hands on the boy’s shoulders.   
Russell shrugged. “She’s scary,” he whispered.

Anders straightened up and Russell leaned against him, burying his face into the fold of his jacket. “Can you stop yelling? You’re scaring the boy.” Then he put an arm around Russell’s shoulders.  
“Excuse me?” She lowered her voice, however. “You’re abandoning him here to go shopping in peace and I scare him?”  
“Abandon?” Anders leaned forward with his eyes narrowing. “Did you even ask him why he was here?”  
“Because Anders, and I guess that’s you, told him to.”  
“Exactly. It’s our safety measure. If we lose each other, we go and meet at the bananas.” Anders had the satisfaction of seeing her blush.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence the lady retreated, but at least she had the grace to make a proper apology. Anders shook his head, straightened the lapels of his jacket and crouched down again. 

“You okay, Russ? She’s gone.”  
“She was scary.”  
“An ugly old hag is what she was,” Anders said drily. “But getting lost wasn’t that scary, was it? Apart from that old hag, I mean.”

Russell shook his head and at that moment, Anders decided to dare make the move. “Why were you so scared anyway when I lost you the first time? What did you think would happen?”  
Russell shrugged and looked at his feet.  
“Hey, you can tell me. You know, if there’s something I can do so you’re not scared anymore, I need to know why.”  
Russell swallowed and rolled a fold of his shirt between his fingers. “Mum and... and Kevin said...”  
Anders waited patiently, despite the small knot of anger in his chest.  
“They said... they said that if I don’t... don’t stay with them, they... then I have to stay in the store and then I get sold to someone else.”

Anders felt the urge to punch someone, and he wasn’t normally the aggressive type. For a moment he was also at a loss about how to react, but then he looked at Russell with a twitch of his head and managed a smile. 

“Well, I’m sure glad that didn’t happen,” he said, got up and held out his hand. “Because then you wouldn’t be here with me now.”

Russell froze and stared up at him with that strange, puzzled stare. Then he took the offered hand, and there was a small smile on his face when Anders gave that hand a gentle squeeze.

* * *

Rose wished Russell a happy belated birthday and with her face lighting up with a smile, she listened to Anders’ recounting of the birthday party. She noticed, of course, how deeply Anders still was affected by the fact that he had finally seen the boy smile, and her smile softened when she saw that his eyes were moist after he had finished. 

Then she asked Russell about the weekend and listened patiently to about ten minutes’ worth of jumbled words and tangled sentences about cactus cupcakes and flower cupcakes, about presents and games and cakes and candles and party hats and fish, and almost another five minutes more about the book with Odin on the cover and the beautiful pictures in it. 

“Sounds like you had a great birthday,” she said when she was able to get a word in. “I am so happy for you, I really am.”

Russell looked a little embarrassed, but also somewhat pleased, when he clutched Al tighter. (Anders made sure he took him along when he picked Russell up after school on those days they had therapy.) 

As usual, they started their session with kneeling opposite each other and holding hands, but this time, Anders noticed a difference. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it felt different.

The next step was Russell hanging on to Anders’ hands. They had made progress with that during the last weeks, and with pleasant warmth of accomplishment Anders saw that Russell’s face was far less anxious as the last time they had tried this as he slowly leaned back. 

And then, before Anders had even realised it, the boy was hanging with his full weight from Anders’ hands.  
His heart began to race and he carefully adjusted his grip to make sure he didn’t lose it. 

“Very good,” Rose whispered. “Russ, you’re amazing.”  
Russell’s answer was letting his head drop back as well so he was staring at the ceiling.   
“Amazing,” Rose whispered and slowly got up. “Anders...” She gestured at him. “Get up.”

Anders pulled Russell upright and then got up as well. They were still holding hands, and they looked at each other for a silent moment before Russell managed a small, shy smile. 

“Try again, Russ.” Rose stood beside him and put a hand onto Russell’s lower back. “I hold you if something goes wrong.”  
“It won’t,” Anders said firmly. “I got you, Russ.”

Russell chewed his lower lip for a moment, then he closed his eyes and leaned back. Rose kept whispering encouragements and Anders tensed his muscles, and all of a sudden Russell was completely suspended in the air. Rose slowly removed her hand and stepped aside. If Anders let go now, he would land flat on his back. Russell let his head drop back with a small gasp of surprise. 

“Okay,” Rose said after a moment, and Anders realised he had lost track of time. It could have been thirty seconds or ten minutes that he had stood there and watched Russell hanging from his hands. He pulled Russell in, and the boy looked up at him with his face flushed and that strange, wide-eyed, puzzled look, a look that very slowly turned into a small smile.

“Russell,” Rose said gently. “Was that scary?” She asked after Russell had looked up at her.  
Russell shrugged, bit his lip, but after another moment, shook his head.  
Anders felt a lump in his throat the size of a brick.  
“Do you think you can do it again?”  
Russell fidgeted, but then he looked up at Anders and swallowed. “Okay,” he said. 

They tried two more times. And two more times, Russell hung suspended and only held by Anders’ hands for as long as two minutes. 

“You are great,” Rose said when all three of them were sitting on the mat again. “Both of you, you are doing such a great job. You can be so proud of yourselves.”  
Russell and Anders exchanged a quick glance that turned into a shy smile.   
Rose had to laugh. “And you two are more alike to each other than you probably realise. You even have an identical body language.”  
“I noticed,” Anders replied with a crooked smile. “Like father, like son, hm?”  
“Indeed.” Rose got up and gestured at the two of them to get up as well.

“Okay, I’d like to try something else now. You’ve come so far, and this is the last step.” She looked at Russell. “This is probably scary for you, but you know it’s still okay to be scared and say no, right?”  
Russell chewed his lips while nodding.  
“And Anders, this could be scary for you, too. But after what I’ve seen today, I know you’re both ready to try.”  
Anders nodded. “If you say so.”

Rose explained, and Anders and Russell listened.   
Russell _was_ scared. And Anders was scared too because of what would happen if this went wrong. 

“We try one time,” Rose said firmly. “Only once, Russell, okay? Then you know what to expect, and then we stop. Only one time.”  
“Okay,” Russell whispered. 

He was standing with his back to Anders, who was standing one step away, and looked at Rose with unmasked fear.

“None of you should worry if this doesn’t work. But remember when we tried the hanging-on for the first time? And how it went today? We will get there.”  
Russell nodded.   
“Okay. Remember.” Rose put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Anders will catch you, no matter what.”  
“I got you,” Anders said as firmly as he could, but in truth he was probably as scared as Russell was. If this went wrong...  
But Russell nodded again. 

But letting yourself fall over backwards is not only about trust; simple reflexes prevented Russell from it when he completely involuntarily made a hasty sideways step to not fall over. 

Anders realised this wasn’t just about letting go; it was about overcoming and tackling your fears using your force of will. This was not something Russell could train and get used to. This was something he had to _want_. 

“Anders?” He could hear the tremor of fear in Russell’s voice.  
“I got you, Russ,” he replied firmly and with as much self-control as he could muster.

And he could see Russell try again. He curled up his toes, stood on his heels and swayed a little back and forth. There was a small whine of fear.

“I got you.”  
“...Anders...”  
“I got you.”

Anders could see a tremor run through the boy from head to toe. He was ready to call it off before it was too late, but then Russell suddenly spread his arms as if he meant to fly. And then he fell. 

And with a high-pitched gasp, eyes pinched shut, he landed in Anders’ waiting arms.

After a moment, Russell opened his eyes.   
Anders looked down at him. “Hey.”  
Russell burst into tears.

Anders quickly bundled him up into his arms and sat down, just as he had back the other day when Russell had realised he wouldn’t have to go back to Wellington. Only that this time, it didn’t take Russell as long to calm down. It was when he felt something nudge his arm that Anders opened his eyes to find Rose look at him with a soft smile and a box of Kleenex.

With a crooked smile Anders took one and wiped his eyes, then proceeded to dry Russell’s face. The boy curled up in Anders’ lap and leaned against his shoulder, and Rose silently offered Al to him. Russell grabbed him and clutched him to his chest, then melted into Anders’ embrace and closed his eyes.

“You have come a long, long way,” Rose said as she sat down beside them on the mat. “And you have both given it all. You can be really proud of yourself.” Then she leaned forward. “Russ?”  
Russell opened his eyes.   
“Do you remember, the first time we did this? We talked about how you were scared at night, and how it gets better when Anders comes and takes your hand.”  
Russell emitted a somewhat affirmative noise.  
“And Anders used to tell you it’s going to be okay.”  
This time, he nodded.  
“And?” Rose smiled. “Is it okay now?”

Anders carefully tightened his arms around the boy and he could feel Russell press himself against him. 

“Russ?” Her voice was very gentle. “Is it okay?”

Russell opened his eyes and looked up at Anders. Anders looked down and tried to smile, despite the brick in his throat being back. Then Russell looked at Rose again and nodded.  
“Yes,” he whispered hardly audible. “It’s okay.”

Anders closed his eyes, but he was still forced to use a few more Kleenex from Rose’s box himself.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this chapter to the crew of the DarkHawk because, you know... I only left the chat group, not the ship.  
> Imagine Ross looking like Slash and Jim like a young Axl Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some days are better than others... by the amazing [ryuuri](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ryuuri/pseuds/ryuuri). Make sure you check her out and let her know how awesome she is!
> 
>   
>    
> 

Anders was honestly baffled when he was approached by Russell’s music teacher, who was also the leader of the school choir, telling him she had made the decision to make an exception for Russell. So while technically he was two years too young, he was now allowed to join anyway. 

She told him that Russell had such a lovely voice that it would be a shame if he wouldn’t be given the chance to use it.

Anders could only shrug and admit his disappointment about the boy being too shy to sing at home, because he had hardly ever heard him do more than sing under his breath or hum.   
He was informed that he had something to look forward to, as the choir would of course perform at the Christmas celebration. 

But despite all of Anders’ gentle prodding, Russell couldn’t be convinced to show Anders what he was capable of. He did sing, but only when he thought he was alone and thought Anders wasn’t listening, and only very quietly. Nothing Anders did or said could bring Russell to sing out loud and he eventually stopped again trying to make him, because he was beginning to make the boy feel uncomfortable.

But other than that, Russell was clearly livening up after his birthday and the subsequent progress in therapy they had made. When Anders had told Ty and Dawn about it, Dawn had been moved to tears despite Russell’s refusal to give a demonstration. 

By and large, Russell was more and more becoming like a normal boy whose antics could drive Anders up the wall sometimes. Trousers that fit one day and suddenly didn’t fit anymore the next. Discussions about bed time, brushing teeth or wiping the god damn toilet seat. 

And then one morning the crunch over a pair of socks, when they were already running late, resulted in Anders losing his shit and shouting at him to hurry the fuck up. And as opposed to all the times before when Russell had caved in because he was quickly getting scared of Anders’ exasperation, this time he yelled right back that it wasn’t his fault the bloody socks didn’t fit.

In the silence after that, Russell suddenly froze when he realised what he had done. Anders, whose anger was still at full speed, didn’t register it at first, but when he noticed that Russell was getting scared he realised what had just happened. 

“Okay,” he said and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That... escalated quickly. Just... just put on whatever socks you want. I think we’ve lost the time for breakfast now.”  
When Russell came down the stairs shortly after that, looking a bit like a beaten dog, Anders was hastily making PBJs. “Get ready,” he told the boy. “We gotta have breakfast in the car.” 

He shoved one of the sandwiches between his teeth and gestured at Russell to get his shoes on while grabbing his briefcase with the other. Once Russell was in the car Anders handed him the other sandwich and, still chewing on his own, got the car out of the driveway. 

They made it in time, and Anders gave the boy a quick hug after wiping a smudge of jam from his cheek.

“Have a good day, Russ,” he said with a smile. Because really, how could he be angry when Russell was suddenly feeling safe enough to have an argument with him? “And remind me to buy you new socks.”  
“Okay,” Russell said, and the smile returned. 

Anders ruffled his hair, and Russell turned towards the gate and broke into a run because he had spotted Emma. He continued his way to work with a smile. Not even the fact that Dawn broke out laughing when she saw him and told him that he had jam on his chin could put a damper on his mood.

* * *

It wasn’t so long after Russell had started in the choir that Anders noticed the boy slowly beginning to withdraw again. He smiled less and less, and with all his alarm bells going off, Anders settled them down one Saturday with chocolate milk and a coffee and, after gentle prodding and questioning, finally got Russell to open up again.

Apparently he had a bit of a bullying problem. Not that Anders was surprised. Russell was small, fragile and shy, just like Anders himself had been as a kid, and thus the perfect prey. 

“And they say I look like a girl,” Russell continued, staring at his glass. “But Thor isn’t a girl, and he has long hair, and when we play cricket in the yard they laugh at me and say I play like a girl too, but that’s not fair, Emma plays cricket and she’s ace, and I just can’t hit the stupid ball. Cricket’s a stupid game.”  
“And who are those guys?”  
Russell shrugged. “Don’t know. Fifth, or sixth. I think. I dunno.”  
“And you don’t know their names, either?”  
The boy shook his head.

Anders leaned back and thought. Obviously, he needed to inform the school, but while he didn’t doubt that his worries would be taken seriously and actions would be taken, he also knew that these things took time when going the official way. 

“And it’s during breaks in the yard?”  
“After school, too.”  
“When you have to wait for me?”   
“Sometimes.”  
Anders heaved an angry sigh. “Seems I have to work on my time management. I’m sorry, Russell. I see to it that you won’t have to wait anymore when...” And that gave him an idea.

He picked up his phone and called Axl.

 _“Hey Anders! Sup?”_  
“Axl.” Anders leaned back in his chair, aware of Russell’s eyes on him. “I need to ask a favour.”  
 _“Ask away!”_  
“You see, it’s about Russell...”  
 _“Say no more,”_ Axl said firmly.  
“You don’t even...”  
 _“I don’t care. If Russell has a problem, I’ll fix it.”_  
Anders had to laugh. “Okay. So here’s the thing: Russell has a bit of a bullying problem...”  
The silence on the other side sounded dangerous.   
“And I was wondering if you would mind picking Russell up from school during the next week or so. Maybe you could wear that smart coat you had last year Halloween when you and your mates were doing the Matrix thing?”  
 _“You bet I can,”_ Axl said after a pause. _“So we bully the bullies, huh?”_  
“Not necessarily bully,” Anders replied. “They think Russell’s weak. Now imagine when they learn that Russell has friends who are anything but.”  
 _“Sure thing, Anders. It’ll be my pleasure.”_

“Say,” Anders said after a moment’s thought. “Are you still hanging out with those two?”  
He could _hear_ Axl’s grin become evil.

* * *

Axl’s two friends were more than willing to help, and after Anders had handed him the spare car seat, Axl had parked a block away from the school for maximum exposure, and all three of them were now standing close to the gate to wait for Russell. Zeb had refrained from joining them, fully aware that he was lacking a bit in terms of intimidating abilities.

And as soon as Axl spotted Russ, he could also see the two boys in question who made his nephew’s life difficult. They were following him and saying things Axl couldn’t understand, of course, but he didn’t need to, not by the way Russell hunched his shoulders and hurried up. 

Axl hooked his thumbs into his belt. “Hey, Russ!”  
Russell looked up and his anxious expression turned into a relieved smile. “Axl!” He waved and started to jog. “Uncle Axl!” 

And to Axl’s deep satisfaction, he saw the two boys still follow him. That is, until they caught sight of Axl and his two mates, who were standing on either side of him and looked as if they could both eat a Harley for breakfast. They both wore black, tattered jeans, shirts with band logos, heavy biker boots, and the whole look was rounded off with a few facial piercings and full sleeve tattoos.

“Hey, how’s my favourite nephew?” Axl bent down and swept Russell up with a grin. Russell grinned back. “Russ, I’d like you to meet my two friends.”

Russell still on his hip, Axl looked at the tall guy on his right. A mass of black curls was hanging across his face obscuring half of it, but what had looked like a cigarette poking out of the unruly curls turned out to be a lollipop. He wore a Slayer shirt and a denim vest with studs. 

“Russell, that’s my mate Ross.”  
“Hey Russ, how’s it going, bro?” Ross lifted his hand and Russell gave him a shy bro-fist.   
“And that’s my mate Jim,” Axl said and turned around. 

The other guy was smaller than Ross, and his thick, blonde hair was pulled out of his hair by a bandana. The collar off his Motörhead shirt was torn off, revealing a glimpse of chest hair.

“Hey Russ,” Jim said too and gave him a bro-fist as well. “Nice to meet you. Axl keeps talking about you all the time!”  
Russell smiled shyly, but looked pleased. 

A glance towards the gate confirmed that yes, the two pathetic bullies had lopped off.

Axl and his friends dropped Russell off at Anders’ office, and the two almost gave Dawn a heart attack as they swept in through the door. 

“Hello, Mr Johnson,” Jim said with a friendly wave. “How’s it going?”  
“Fine, actually.” Anders got up, and offered both of Axl’s friends a hand. “Thanks for giving us a hand in this.”  
“No worries,” Jim said. “Russ is a great little guy. Those wankers better keep their hands off him.”  
“Damn right, they’d better.” Ross smiled down at Russell. “Axl’s friends are our friends.”

Russell looked up at Ross. “You talk funny,” he said.  
Ross threw his head back and laughed, and only now was his face fully visible. He had an impressive pair of eyebrows. “Yeah, I know. I’m not from around.” Then he cast a look at Jim that was surprisingly soft.  
Jim laughed as well. “I was backpacking in Europe a couple of years ago, see where we used to live before my parents moved here. I was like, three or so. I picked him up in London and he followed me home.”

Dawn’s smile, which had hitherto been the no-nonsense business smile she usually put on for something beyond her control, turned decidedly softer now. 

“London, huh?” Anders smiled up at Ross.   
“Yeah, but actually I’m from Cornwall, but you don’t have to pretend you know where that is.” He grinned. “Until I met Jim I didn’t even know New Zealand had a North and a South island.”

They all shared a friendly laugh, and after that, Axl and his two friends made their farewells with the promise to pick Russell up again tomorrow. As they left, Ross shoved one hand possessively into one back pocket of Jim’s jeans and Jim reciprocated the gesture. 

“Well,” Dawn said after the door had closed. “That was an excellent lesson in the topic of ‘Appearances can be deceiving’.”

Anders chuckled as he made his way back to his desk while Russell settled down on the sofa and unpacked his pencil case and a book. 

“Anders?” He asked after a moment.  
“What is it?” Anders looked up from his desktop.  
“Do you have a Mo... Mo... tor...head CD?”  
Anders frowned. “A what?”  
“Mot... Motörhead,” Russell said, stumbling a little over the word. “Axl has their music in his car. It’s Jim’s favourite.”

Remembering the T-shirt, Anders realised what Russell meant. He chuckled.

“No, I’m afraid not. I stop at hard rock; Aerosmith or Def Leppard is as hard as it gets.” Then he looked at his screen again. “Is that even music?” He muttered to himself.   
“It’s great!” Russell said, eyes wide with excitement. “It’s loud and crashy, and you do this.” He proceeded to do a passable impression of head banging. 

Anders exchanged a look with Dawn who just about managed to turn her giggle into a chuckle. Anders shook his head with a grin.

* * *

Apparently, the appearance of a six foot four man wearing an ankle-length black leather coat and two guys with as much metal in their faces as was in their music was big enough a deterrent to put an end to the bullying. After a week of Axl picking Russell up at school, Russell had assured Anders with a very smug smile that his bullies were now steering well clear of him.

Anders was very pleased with himself that Russell was able to go to school again with a smile. 

Still pleased with himself, he sat down at his desk that day and opened his laptop to check his mail. The smile died on his face as he scrolled through the contents of his inbox, his eyes catching a familiar name, and he stared at the header for a long moment. He was tempted to not open it, then told himself to man up and act like an adult.

_To: a.johnson@johnsonpr.co.nz_   
_Sender: homealone-mcinnis@gmail.com_   
_Subject: Russell_

_I’m in Auckland for a family funearl from the 7th to the 12th and I really would like to see the boy. I miss him, I just want to say hello. Please call me._

Anders leaned back and rubbed a hand across his chin. Today was the 5th. McInnis would be in Auckland for the better part of next week. 

“Fuck.”  
“Anders?” Dawn leaned forward. “Do you need a coffee?” When Anders didn’t reply she got up and hastily walked over to his desk. “Anders? What happened?”  
Anders looked up at her. “Nothing yet. But McInnis wrote that he’s in Auckland next week for a funeral and he wants to see Russ to say hello.”  
“What? You’re not going to let that happen, are you?”  
Anders frowned at her. “Of course not!”  
“Then what’s the problem?”

“Call me paranoid.” Anders folded his arms onto his desk and stared at the screen. “Persecution complex.”  
“Anders, what do you think he’ll do?”  
Anders leaned back in his chair again. “Anyone who knows how to use google maps can find JPR, and then all he has to do is follow me home from work, or worse, follow me to Russell’s school.”  
“I think persecution complex is the right term to use here, Anders,” Dawn said firmly. “I can’t imagine he’d bother with even thinking that.”

“Do you remember what I texted you when I was down there?” Anders met her eyes. “What he did to Russ? I’m not sure if that was really intentionally but he almost broke him because he didn’t want to give him to me.”  
Dawn took a deep breath. “I remember, though I’d rather I didn’t.”  
“I don’t know, Dawn.” Anders looked at his screen again. “I just don’t fucking know what he will or won’t do. I’m just worried. Whatever happens when Russ sees him again... it’ll be nothing short of catastrophic for him.”

Anders and Dawn exchanged a long, unhappy look. 

“I start with telling him to fuck off.”  
“Maybe you could use a slightly more diplomatic approach? Just for politeness’s sake?”  
“Diplomatic?” Anders narrowed his eyes. “Russell had panic attacks every single night for months because he was afraid he’d have to go back to that man. It’s taken me... and all of you... It’s taken us months to make the boy remember how to smile. Polite? Really?” 

Anders took his phone and quickly loaded the picture he had made in Wellington. He dropped it onto the desk and looked up at Dawn. 

Dawn looked back at him, her lips a thin line. “Tell him to fuck off.”

Anders gave her a crooked little smile and swivelled his chair around so he could look at his screen while Dawn headed for the coffee maker. 

_To: homealone-mcinnis@gmail.com_   
_Sender: a.johnson@johnsonpr.co.nz_   
_Subject: Re: Russell_

_Mr McInnis,_

_I’ve tried to think of several ways to put this but I’ll settle for blunt right now._

_No._

_I’ve taken Russell with me for a reason, and that reason was you. He was neglected and hand-shy, and the only reason you’re not a probationer is because you agreed to cooperate with CA which helped sweet fuck all. Russell had panic attacks every single fucking night for months until I found out why: He was afraid he’d have to go back to Wellington. It wasn’t until his birthday recently that I saw him finally smile for the first time. I am seriously tempted to make CA take the case to court again, but I won’t do that to Russell because the boy has been through enough._

_I say this only once: Stay away from my son._

_If I ever see you in his vicinity I’ll call the police. Other than that I have three brothers and a cousin who love Russell to bits and believe me, if the police don’t listen to me, they will. Feel threatened enough yet? I won’t hesitate for a second to let my brother Axl off the leash just so you can experience how it feels like to be bullied by someone bigger and stronger than you._

_If you still want me to send you pictures of the boy just tell me, but otherwise, stay the fuck out of our life._

_A.J._

Anders took his phone and sent himself two pictures: The one from Wellington and the most recent one he had of Russ. Dawn had taken it on his birthday party, shortly after Anders had given him the cichlids. He still had Russell on his arm, and the boy was smiling at the bowl and the two fish with shiny eyes while his thick, golden hair curled around his face. Two minutes with his photo editor and he had pasted these two pictures together with a date added into the upper right corner of each one. 

He attached that to the mail and sent it.

He never heard from McInnis again.


	29. Chapter 29

It was the last day of school before Christmas, and Anders had set an alarm on his phone and marked the time in his desk calendar with a highlighter. There was no coming too late to the concert. No fucking chance. The only thing that would stop him was the fucking apocalypse itself.

It was shortly before lunch time, when no one but Colin Gunderson, of all people, strode through the door as if he owned the place. 

“Ah, you’re still in business, I see.” He beamed at Anders.  
Anders leaned back. “And where else would I be, Gunderson? What do you want?”  
“I have a business proposition for you!” Gunderson sat down on Anders’ desk.  
“Go on,” Anders replied. “But take your ass of my desk.”

Gunderson slid to the floor again and leaned forward, placing both hands flat onto the surface of the desk.   
“Let’s hear it.” Still, Anders remained wary.  
“Oh, easy enough.” Gunderson smiled his unpleasant, oily smile. “Being as your last campaign to make me mayor was so successful, I’d like to repeat that particular venture!”

Anders crossed his arms and swivelled back and forth in his chair. “You didn’t bring your walking tits this time, I see.”  
“Please.” Gunderson straightened up again. “I am adaptive. Lesson learned.” He rubbed his hands. “So. Paperwork?”  
“Easy there, tiger.” Anders picked up his pen and twiddled it between his fingers. “What exactly do you want?”  
“I thought I already told you? Make me mayor again!”

Anders rolled his eyes. “I can’t make you mayor, you egghead. But if you give me a good reason why anyone should vote for you, I’ll make a poster out of it.”  
Gunderson rubbed his hands again. “That’s the easy part, Johnson. Can we sit down for that?” And without waiting for an answer, he flopped down in the sofa next to Anders’ desk.

Anders got up with a sigh and picked up a notepad and his pen. “Dawn? Can I trouble you for coffee?”  
“You’ve developed manners?” Gunderson asked as Anders sat down. “What happened to you?”  
“You don’t wanna know,” Anders replied. “Can we get down to business?”  
Gunderson smiled. “Absolutely.”

* * *

Several coffees and a lot of pages in Anders’ notebook later – he’d send Dawn home by that time, much to Gunderson’s bemusement – Anders was still none the wiser about why anyone should even consider voting for Gunderson and he mentioned as much. 

“Well that’s what I’m paying you for!” Gunderson emptied his cup. “You’re the creative mind, and the one who lives on selling lies. That’s what I’m paying you for.”  
Anders lifted his eyebrows and looked over his notes again. “I’m not sure I can make anything out of what you told me.”

Gunderson was about to make a reply when the alarm on Anders’ phone went off.

“Well,” he said and got up. “This is me, I’m afraid. Important appointment.”  
Gunderson frowned. “What could be more important than a deal with a six digit amount contract?”  
“You’d be surprised,” Anders gave back and collected his jacket from the back of his chair.

“Hold on a second.” Gunderson got up as well and stepped in Anders’ way. “You’re not going to walk out on me like that!”  
“Watch me,” Anders replied and attempted to step around him. 

Gunderson blocked his way again. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”  
“Nothing is wrong with me, not yet, in any case. I’ve got somewhere to be, and I need to get going.” Anders crossed his arms after casting a quick glance at his watch.  
“Again, what could be more important than a deal with that sum?”  
“Then let me enlighten you.” Anders said. “Becoming a father kind of changes your priorities, especially if the son you discover you have is already five years old. And since I have no intention to be as rotten a father as you, or my own, for that matter, I will physically throw you out of this office if you don’t fuck off this minute, because I am not going to come too late to the Christmas concert at school.”

Gunderson broke out laughing. “Son? Are you kidding me? Christmas concert?”  
“Hilarious. Yes, turns out one of my past flings had unintended consequences. But the boy is my son, and his stepfather was an abusive asshole; so this is me, redeemed and reformed, and now fuck off before I kick you out.”

The sharpness in his voice left no doubt that he meant it, and Gunderson left, together with Anders who locked the door behind him. 

“You’ll regret losing that deal when I pay someone else that sum, Johnson.”  
“Keep your money and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine, Gunderson. There’s things that are more important.”

With that, he turned on his heel and headed for his car. He had already almost lost the buffer of time he had included in his planning, and Anders’ hands were cold and moist when he started the engine. He gritted his teeth and prayed that the gods of traffic lights would give him their blessing today.

* * *

The gods of traffic lights had heard Anders’ plea so he wasn’t even the last one to enter the auditorium, but the lights were already dimmed down. Cursing inwardly, Anders hurried back and forth until he saw someone wave. It was Olaf, and he squeezed himself past the people already seated, muttering apologies, and fell into the seat between Dawn and Mike with a heavy sigh of relief. 

“We were beginning to worry about you,” Mike whispered after leaning close.   
“You never guess who came into my office Just before lunch.”  
“Gunderson,” Mike replied. “Dawn mentioned it.”  
“Asshat.” Anders replied. “I actually had to throw him out of the office, that’s why I was almost late.”  
“What about the deal?”  
“Fuck the deal.” Anders fiddled with his phone. “How did Russ take it? Did he assume I was going to be late again?”  
“I think he was beginning to believe that, yes.”  
“Fuck.”

The lights went out. But instead of switching off his phone, Anders muted it and settled it on his knees with the screen upward. The people behind him muttered their displeasure just loud enough for him to hear.

“What the fuck?” Mike hissed under his breath, and on his other side, he could see Dawn shake her head. But Anders kept looking at the stage with a tight little spot in his stomach and a hopeful smile.

The curtain opened, and the audience went silent. And when the lights went on, casting the stage in a soft glow, the kids from first to third grade were in place to sing the opening song.

Anders could see Russell in the first row, and he was looking rather sad. That is, until his roaming eyes fell onto the soft, blue glow of Anders’ phone screen casting just about enough light that his face was recognisable. 

And Russell’s face lit up with that amazing, dimpled smile that still made Anders’ throat go dry. He quickly switched off his phone, but Russell’s eyes kept darting back to where he remembered him sit.

“Clever bastard,” Mike whispered.   
Anders smiled, but that was invisible in the darkness, of course. “There’s mistakes, Mike and there’s mistakes even I make only once,” Anders whispered back. “That smile just now cost me a six digit sum, but you know what?”  
Mike exhaled softly. “What?”  
“It was worth every single dollar.”  
Mike rested his hand on Anders’ arm for a moment.

Anders leaned back and crossed his arms, utterly pleased with himself. He hadn’t fucked it up. It had been a near thing, even if it hadn’t been his fault, but he hadn’t fucked it up. 

The next things taking place on stage were songs by fourth to sixth grade, and a little Christmas themed play by the oldest kids. 

Then came the nativity play, and even Anders had to admit that the kids dressed up as ox and donkey were adorable. The same went for the sheep, impersonated by the first graders.   
Russell wasn’t among them though; he appeared later as one of the children coming to see the newborn Jesus resting in the crib.

Another song, by all the children who had partaken in the nativity play, and then the curtain went down again. Behind it, a lot of shuffling and moving of props could be heard, and by the sound of it, a piano was being moved as well.

The last act was the school choir, something Anders had actually looked forward to. Not that he would actually hear Russell sing as such if he was part of a choir, but he could at least see him perform this time. That particular memory made him still inwardly cringe in shame. 

When the curtains went up again, the choir was in place, all of them dressed in the same white robes. And in the first row was Russell, the smallest by far due to the fact that he was two years younger than was the starting age. There was only a dim light on the choir, and they were standing at the back of the stage. But then a single spotlight went on, pointing towards the front of the stage, and as the piano started playing Silent Night...

...Russell slowly stepped forward, right into the spotlight. 

Anders felt his chest tighten at the sight. There he was, his son, in a white robe with his golden hair curling around his sweet and innocent face...   
Then the piano paused, and when it started again, Russell closed his eyes and sang. Alone. Alone on a stage in front of hundreds of people. 

Anders chest tightened even more and beside him Dawn sighed, but it was actually more of a sob. The audience was absolutely silent now, not a single shuffle of feet or cough or rustle of someone shifting in his seat.

The boy had the voice of an angel.

He sang the first verse of the song, and by the time it ended, Anders had tears in his eyes. Dawn already had to employ a handkerchief, and on his other side, Mike rubbed a hand across his eyes with a deep and heavy sigh. 

At the end of the first verse, the rest of the choir stepped forward, enveloping Russell in their ranks again as the spot went out and the light now rested on the whole choir for the remainder of the song. 

Then the stage went dark and the curtains fell. 

After a moment of silence the applause started, and Anders was the first on his feet. His brothers, Michelle, Olaf and Dawn followed suit, and when the curtain rose again for the choir to bow to the audience, the whole auditorium was giving standing ovations. 

When the curtains fell this time, the lights went on again and the people began to file out through the doors. Behind the stage, kids got rid of their costumes and by and by, appeared through the door to the backstage area into the foyer. The Johnson clan remained close to each other as they waited, until at one point, they could hear Russell call. 

“Anders! Uncle Mike! Cousin Olaf!” He came running over, face flushed and hair in disarray. “Auntie Dawn! Uncle Ty! You’re all here! Uncle Axl! Auntie Michelle! You’re all here!”

When he had reached them, and saw them all smiling down at him, his broad grin turned into a somewhat shy smile. Anders cleared his throat and unceremoniously lowered himself down onto his knees. 

He closed both hands around Russell’s shoulders. “You were amazing,” he said. “You were absolutely amazing. I can’t even... I am so proud of you, Russ.” His voice wavered. “I am so proud...”

Russell’s smile lit up again, and after shuffling his feet for a moment, he took a cautious step forward. 

Anders closed his arms around him and pulled him close. “I am so proud of you,” he muttered into Russell’s hair. “My son... I am so proud.” 

Russell buried his face into the crook of Anders’ neck as Anders got up with his arms closed around him. After a moment he leaned back, though, and he and Anders looked at each other for a moment longer, two pairs of dimples in a mirroring smile.


	30. Chapter 30

Quite often, Anders had to resist the urge to buy Russell anything the boy just happened to look at. He himself had grown up close to poverty; there had been little to spare for more than the essential things, few toys, hardly any treats, and mostly used and mended clothes.  
It was difficult for him because he knew how it felt to have nothing, and while he of course wanted to make sure Russell had everything he needed, he also wanted to give him things just because the boy wanted them, just preferably without spoiling him rotten. 

And while Anders was perfectly aware of that money can’t buy happiness, it could well buy things that could make you happy. He liked to think back to Russell’s birthday and the book he’d given him. 

So it was that Russell’s first Christmas in Auckland was as overwhelming for the boy as his birthday had been. Anders had invited the whole family over, being as his house was the most spacious one, and the whole Johnson clan had erupted into a burst of domestic cosiness and had transformed the house into something straight out of a Dickens novel.

Russell was staring at the tree with eyes as big and shiny as the Christmas baubles. He was distracted by Axl though, who was wearing a Christmas hat with bobbing antlers, and every time he came into view Russell stared at that hat with an expression of deep puzzlement. 

Ty and Anders were manning the kitchen, and when Anders took a sip of his beer and had a look around at one point, he felt a bit as if he had fallen down the rabbit hole. Christmas hat never been like this. Sure, they’d had a tree and gifts back in Norsewood, but after moving out, celebrating Christmas had been reduced to fleeting visits and a few drinks.  
They had stopped exchanging gifts years ago in mutual agreement. After all, there were only so many socks any man could possibly need and gag gifts had ceased being funny when Axl had become a teenager.

And now... not only was the whole family gathered in one house, that house was lovingly decorated, and it was smelling of the roast in the oven – though they also had the barbie going outside, but Dawn had insisted – and vanilla and cinnamon scented candles, there were cookies and treats and a tree with baubles and candy canes. The thought alone of celebrating Christmas like this would have made Anders throw up a little in his mouth the year before; back in his flat he’d never even put a single candle onto the table. 

There was even a fucking mistletoe and Ty and Dawn never let the opportunity pass them by.

This was such a stark contrast to how things had been before that it was hard to believe. All of a sudden they were a family, laughing together, sticking together, joking and making apologies. It felt strange, but in a good way.  
Apparently, Anders hadn’t been the only one wanting to give Russell something he’d never had; it was as if Russell had brought forth the best in all of them. 

As he watched Russell now, who was standing in the middle of the room, watching everyone around him with big, bright eyes and a plate of cookies all but forgotten in his hands, Anders felt the sudden urge to hug him. His first impulse was to resist, as apart from desperate situations neither of them was completely comfortable with that yet – and Anders wondered if they would ever be – but then he put his bottle down and walked over to his side.

The boy looked up at him.  
“Hey.” Anders crouched down.  
Russell smiled shyly and offered him the cookies. 

Anders took one and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he watched Dawn and Michelle put the last decorations into place while Mike, Axl and Olaf were putting the finishing touches to the tree. Olaf was wearing an Alice band with a fluffy halo wired to it and Mike a Christmas hat with a blinking bobble. 

“They’re doing a pretty good job with all the decor, aren’t they?”  
Russell nodded, but something seemed to be bothering him.  
“What’s wrong, Russ?”  
He bit his lip. “Does Santa know I live in Auckland now?”  
Anders couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Of course he does. And if you’re worried that he can’t come in because we don’t have a fireplace... we just leave the terrace door unlocked, okay?”  
Russell seemed genuinely relieved. 

Anders shook his head with an affectionate smile. It was heart-warming that the boy hadn’t lost all of his childish innocence, despite everything he had been through. The urge to hug him was back, and Anders draped an arm around Russell and pulled him close. For a moment Russell tensed and it felt as if he meant to resist, then he relaxed again and leaned his head against Anders’s shoulder.

* * *

As shy and insecure as Russell had been on Christmas Eve, he was all happy little boy again when he bounced down the stairs on Christmas morning, in his dinosaur pyjamas and with his golden curls in complete and utter disarray sticking out into all directions. Anders was of the firm opinion that Russell had the most adorable bedhead the world had ever seen.

The door to the living room stood wide open and he froze when he saw the presents under the tree. Anders and Dawn, always early risers, were already up and having a coffee standing at the kitchen counter, and they both watched Russell inch closer to the tree, eyes huge and bright, while clutching Al to his chest. 

“Woow...” He whispered, voice trembling with awe.

Dawn shook her head and wiped her eyes. Anders looked at her, smiled, and draped an arm around her shoulder. He gave her a quick firm hug, then they exchanged a smile. 

“Happy Christmas, Russ,” Anders said.

Russell slowly turned around with a beautiful, dimpled smile. 

Santa had brought a few books and a new Captain America since the old one had lost an arm that couldn’t be re-attached. This time, to Russell’s utter delight, he even came with his motorbike. Then there were a few more books and games for his Nintendo from his uncles and a set of Avenger bedclothes from Ty and Dawn.

Anders had only one present, but it was fairly large.  
Russell’s eyes widened almost until the point of no return after he had unwrapped it. 

It was a ship, a Viking ship, with a dragon head and red and white striped sails. Almost two feet long, it had a crew of twenty small Viking warriors armed with axes or swords. Once it was unpacked from the box and the mast set up, Russell knelt down in front of it and just looked at it, as if he was afraid touching it would make it vanish like a soap bubble. 

Anders lowered himself down beside him. “Do you like it?”

Russell looked up at him, eyes so bright that it made Anders’s heart ache, and before he could react, Russell had jumped up and flung his arms around Anders’s neck. The unexpected move made Anders lose his balance and he landed gracelessly on his backside, but quickly closed his arms around the boy after getting his wits back. 

“Happy Christmas, Russ,” Anders said again, and with a strange pang of hotness in his abdomen when Russell tightened his grip and snuggled against him.  
Then Russell buried his face into the crook of Anders’s neck. “Thank you,” he whispered against his skin.  
Anders closed his eyes and buried his face in Russell’s hair.

* * *

Both Axl and Olaf had been all too willing to play with Russell and the ship, and the peaceful Christmas atmosphere was now accompanied by raging storms and battle cries. 

At one point, however, Dawn and Michelle managed to convince Russell to sing a Christmas song for them. Russell had been shy and acting coyly, but all the praise he got for the concert finally convinced him and he positioned himself next to the tree, closed his eyes and sang Silent Night again.

“You are so amazing,” Dawn said when he had finished. “You have such a lovely voice, Russ.”  
Russell fidgeted and looked at his feet.  
“No, seriously.” Mike leaned forward. “You’re fantastic.”

The general praise made Russell blush and somewhat uncomfortable, so he quickly retreated into a corner behind a sofa and reintroduced Captain America to the Avengers team. 

The Johnsons left him to it and made their way to the kitchen for tea and coffee.

“He is an amazing little boy,” Dawn said again as she took a sip of tea.  
“He is,” Anders confirmed. “To be honest...” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “I was a little worried about him when he started school. I mean, he keeps falling over his own feet, just like I did at that age, and his grasp of numbers is appalling, but this...” he took another sip. “You all heard him sing. And I swear, that boy picks up languages like a dog picks up fleas. There’s two Maori boys in his class and he already has small talks with them. And he still remembers every single bit of German he learned in Wellington.”

“He even speaks German?” Axl asked with a grin. “Where did he learn that?”  
“From the child psychologist in Wellington,” Anders replied. “He’s German. Horst Mahler. He probably has taught him just for shits and giggles.”  
“Hey, do you know about German vegetarian pessimists?”  
“Axl...” Mike said with a sigh.  
“They always fear the wurst!”  
Accompanied by a collective groan Mike smacked him around the ears. Axl still didn’t stop grinning, though.

Olaf had ignored Axl, lost deeply in his own thoughts. “Language and Singing, hm?” His voice very thoughtful, Olaf narrowed his eyes.  
Everyone looked up at him, the annoyance at Axl’s bad pun evaporating at the tone of Olaf’s voice.  
“Anders, when he was conceived, you were still Bragi, right?”  
Anders looked up at Olaf with his eyebrows rising into his hairline. “So? He’s not Bragi reincarnated, though, is he?”  
“No,” Olaf replied with a chuckle. “But I think he may have been blessed by Bragi.”

Everyone slowly looked towards the Christmas tree behind which Russell was hiding, unaware of him being the topic of conversation.

There was no denying that Olaf could very well be right. And there was no denying that what Russell had was a gift indeed. And Anders promised himself that he would do all he could to help Russell make use of his gift, and if he would be a correspondent or work for the UN or become a second Caruso or a singer of a fucking country band didn’t matter, as long as he would be happy. 

“Blessed by Bragi, huh?” Anders took a sip of his coffee and smiled. “I like that. I like that a lot.”

* * *

Since Christmas, Russell had a new favourite game. The Vikings would attack whatever poor country happened to be in their way, and the Avengers would come to the rescue. Then, Thor the Mighty would rally the Vikings under their banner and together, they would defeat an army of monsters that usually consisted of plastic dinosaurs and/or toy blocks that were supposed to be evil robots.

They had watched the fireworks over Mission Bay on New Year’s Eve, and when school started again, Russell had loads to tell about the things he had gotten as Christmas Presents. Anders didn’t like to dwell on the thought that it might be the first time he actually had something worth bragging about, but he managed to push that thought aside. He surely didn’t begrudge Russell his feeling of smugness about the visible jealousy of his mates when he talked about the ship, or when someone was coming over to play. 

Emma and Russell were still Best Friends Ever, and during whatever occasions it was that the two met, Anders and Christine were able to pretend their conversation at the beach had never happened. 

Anders’s agency was doing well, and he had gotten better in the management of his workload as he couldn’t just work overtime and on weekends anymore. It had taken him a long time to be able to say no to a prospective client, but it didn’t harm his business in the slightest.

There were no more nightly panic attacks. By the end of January, they had wrapped up therapy and had said good bye to Rose, and after Axl’s intervention there was no more bullying. 

Russell’s hair was now just about long enough for a ponytail, even if the front part was still hanging into his face. Now the mystery of the hidden black hole that absorbed single socks extended to hair elastics as well and Anders kept buying the fucking things in droves. 

Of course things weren’t always roses. And even if Anders couldn’t really bear a grudge for long, he still could be angry or annoyed and sometimes outright pissed off. But whenever it was so bad that he was about to slip back into regretting his choices, he would pick up his phone and load the picture that was almost a year old now. He would look at the sad and empty eyes of a boy staring at him in the waiting room down in the office building in Wellington, and that was all he needed to get his mind on track again.

* * *

On the anniversary of April’s death, Anders took Russell to Cornwall Park and on the top of One Tree Hill, Russell released a white balloon with a small card onto which Anders had written a few words that Russell had dictated. That it was nice in Auckland. That he liked Anders. And that he hoped she was okay in heaven. Together they watched the balloon disappear while Russell was holding on to Anders’s hand. 

Then they went and had ice cream. With whipped cream. And sprinkles. And waffles. And strawberry sauce. And marshmallows. As they ate, Anders kept poking Russell in the ribs, because the boy was ticklish and his giggles were one of the most delightful sounds Anders could imagine. 

“So,” Anders said to Russ on their way home. “Looking forward to the school outing tomorrow?”  
Russell nodded, eyes wide.  
“So what are you looking forward to most? The monkeys, or the lions?”  
“Monkeys,” Russell replied. “And the lions. And giraffes. And the hippos!”  
Anders chuckled. “You’ll have the best day ever tomorrow.”  
Russell was glowing in happy anticipation.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Off to the Zoo, by the amazing [ryuuri](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ryuuri/pseuds/ryuuri)
> 
>   
> 
> 
> * * *

Equipped with a water bottle and a lunchbox that could have fed two grown men, Russell had boarded the school bus that would take the kids to the zoo, and had waved at Anders through the window while grinning like a maniac. Anders had waved back, and he was still smiling to himself when he fell into his office chair. 

Dawn was smiling as well as she put a coffee down in front of him, and Anders opened his laptop to check his emails. He then sent two attachments to the printer next to Dawn’s desk and mad a few notes while he sipped his coffee. Coffee was his brain fuel, and the blood level in his caffeine was definitely too high yet. Twiddling his pen between his fingers he kept staring at the screen and the outline he’d been sent, and tried to focus instead of smiling at the memories of Russell bouncing down the stairs this morning. 

“There you go,” Dawn said as she put the printouts onto his desk. “Do you need another coffee?”  
“You’re an angel without wings, Dawnsie.” Anders smiled up at her. “Keep it coming, this looks difficult.”

Dawn made her way to the coffee maker and shook her head with a smile when she looked around the corner at Anders again. It was obvious that whatever he was thinking about, it wasn’t work.

But with the appearance of the next coffee, Anders was able to focus on his drafts again and started to look at the outlines the client had sent him. They were passable and something he could work with. 

“Dawnsie, another coffee, please?” He was twiddling his pen between his fingers.

Anders’s phone rang as Dawn poured the coffee, he answered with his usual enthusiasm. 

“Yes?” A pause, then: “Speaking.”

A moment later, his pen hit the floor.

Dawn peeked around the corner, more worried than anything else this time. Anders was clutching his phone so hard his knuckles were white, and his face had lost all colour.

“Yes...” He swallowed. “Yes, I... yes...”  
Dawn put everything down and hurried towards his desk.   
“Yes...” Anders said again, his voice shaky. “I... I’m on my way.”

“Anders?”  
Anders looked up at her, his eyes wide in fear. “There... there was... the bus had an accident,” Anders stammered. “A... a collision with a semi and...”  
“Anders...” Dawn swallowed and took a few breaths to calm herself. Then closed her hand around Anders’s arm.   
“I need... I need to get to the hospital.” He tore out of Dawn’s grip, grabbed his keys and was already on his way to the door when Dawn caught up with him again.

“You are not going like that,” she said firmly. “Give me your keys. You’re not driving in that state.”

Anders stared at her as if she was talking Chinese, but after a second, he handed them over. His hands were shaking so badly the keys rattled.  
Dawn inhaled deeply and exhaled again very slowly, then she took the keys, switched on the answering machine, and herded Anders out of the door before locking it. 

She called Mike on her way to Anders’s car.

 _“Dawn?”_  
“Mike.” Dawn cast a look at Anders who looked as if he was sleepwalking. “I need you to pick up Ty at work as fast as possible. Then you two come to the hospital.”  
 _“What?”_  
“Russell’s school bus had an accident. We need you there. ASAP.”  
 _“Shit...”_ Mike took a shaky breath. _“Is it bad?”_  
“We don’t know yet, Anders just got the call. Just... just hurry up, will you?”  
 _“I’m on my way... fuck... I’ll be as fast as I can.”_

As Dawn adjusted the driver’s seat next to him, Anders just wished he would wake up and discover all this was just a bad dream. He could still hear the words of the police officer. Accident. Collision. Semi. ER. 

It was already on the radio. The driver of a semi truck had overlooked a red light at the crossing Victoria Street and Wellesley Street, had slammed on the brakes to avoid a collision, which in turn had caused the truck to jack-knife and slam into a passing school bus at such force that the bus had been overturned. The driver had been killed instantly and the teacher on the passenger seat had died on the scene of the accident under the hands of the paramedics fighting for her life.

Dawn kept her eyes firmly on the road, her mouth a thin line.   
Anders was staring straight ahead as well, but he didn’t see the road. He saw Russell boarding the school bus with his bright and sunny smile before waving happily at him through the window.

* * *

The ER was a madhouse. The moment Anders stepped inside and into the milling chaos of nurses and doctors running back and forth and of panicked parents trying to find their children his brain stopped working. 

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. He felt as if something was choking him, and he slipped his finger behind his collar to loosen it. It didn’t help, and with trembling hands Anders tore off his tie and stuffed it into his pocket. 

He couldn’t move. Didn’t know how to react. Couldn’t think. Didn’t even know what to feel. Russell was here somewhere, in this madness, and he was hurt, alone and scared. He needed to find him. 

Anders looked around. Dawn was gone, and he remembered now that she had told him she would look for Russell, and that he was supposed to remain here and try to catch a nurse or doctor and ask for information.

Russell Johnson. Every member of hospital staff he passed, he asked for Russell Johnson, but no one had heard the name. Dawn returned to him and had found no one either, which could only mean he was one of the more severely injured kids and wasn’t conscious, or for some other reason not able to tell them who he was. 

He could feel Dawn take his hand, and he closed his fingers around it and held on for dear life. Never in his life had he felt that helpless. And never been so afraid. 

It wasn’t much later when Ty and Mike arrived, their faces tight with worry, and Ty immediately draped an arm around Anders’s shoulders and held on. 

“Anything?” Mike asked anxiously.  
“We can’t find him,” Anders said tonelessly.  
Ty pulled Anders a little tighter. “He’s here somewhere, Anders. And we will find him.”  
Anders could only shake his head. 

Dawn marched off again in search for anyone who might know something. She, too, asked about Russell Johnson and described the boy, but to no avail. The only thing she could find out was that there were a few kids more severely injured and some of them still in surgery.

When Dawn returned, Anders was sitting on one of the chairs in the waiting area, hunched over and with his face buried in his hands. 

“Anything?” This time it was Ty who asked.  
“The only thing I found out is that he has to be one of the kids still in surgery.”   
Ty and Mike exchanged a helpless look.  
“I think the only thing we can do is wait,” Dawn went on. “I’m sorry that I don’t have any better news, Anders.”  
Anders dropped his hands and looked up at her with burning eyes. “It’s not your fault, Dawnsie.”

The one thing Anders could do was to fill in a few forms so that these bits of paperwork were already sorted, and he watched those sheets of paper being slipped into a cardboard file. 

The waiting was driving all four of them mad. 

Early in the afternoon things began to calm down a little, but there were still nurses walking around with clipboards, with either names or descriptions of kids and their clothing, and parents came running with tears of relief to be reunited with their children.

Every time one of the nurses appeared with a sheet of paper in her hand, Anders’ heart began to race almost painfully, but the name Russell Johnson never fell. No mention of green shorts and a red shirt with the picture of a T-Rex.

“He’s got to be here,” Ty said soothingly in a vain attempt to calm Anders who was becoming more and more restless with every passing minute.   
“I think I’m going to find some coffee,” Mike said and got up. “This is driving me bonkers. Anyone else want one?”  
“Not me,” Ty said. “But bring one for Anders.”  
“I don’t want any fucking hospital coffee,” Anders muttered.   
Mike ignored Anders’s last remark and looked at Dawn.  
“Not for me, thanks. I’m nervous enough as it is.”

Mike nodded and arched his back, but just as he was about to leave, someone called his name.

“Mike!” It was Michelle, and she came hurrying over, her face pale and her eyes wide and anxious. “Mike, oh my god... Tell me Russ wasn’t on that bus...”   
The silence was all the answer she needed and she shook her head.  
Mike looked at her anxiously. “Michelle? You’re on duty in ER?”  
“Technically not,” Michelle replied and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. She looked a little frazzled. “But they sent every doctor that could be spared from the wards down here.” She sighed. “And a few nurses too.”  
“I see.” Mike said, and then took one of her hands in his. “Please tell me you got any news.”  
Michelle heaved a deep sigh. “I don’t, I’m sorry. Not yet, in any case. But I try to find out, yes? Give me a moment.” She looked at another doctor hurrying past. “Or ten.”

With that, she turned around and vanished around a corner. Mike sat down again, and the waiting continued. 

Anders kept his eyes on the clock mounted on the wall. They’d been here for hours now. More than four hours, and around them, the madness had ceased. All parents of the children in that bus had shown up by now, and a lot of them had already left the waiting area again. And those few who remained also vanished, one after another, following nurses with clipboards while crying tears of relief. At one point, the Johnsons were the only ones left. 

Half an hour passed before Michelle came back, and it was clear by her facial expression that she wasn’t bearing any good news. Anders looked up at her, and she nervously licked her lips.

“Michelle?” Mike took a step forward with a worried frown.  
She tugged at her fingers. “I could... by now, there are only two boys left who have not been... every other kid is accounted for and has been united with their parents and...” Michelle swallowed and closed her eyes. She looked close to tears. “There’s one boy still in surgery,” she said, her voice unsteady. “And another boy was... he was DOA.”

The words refused to make sense to Anders. Everyone around him had fallen silent when they realised the grim truth, but Anders’s brain refused to process that information. DOA. 

“Anders.” Michelle crouched down in front of him and took his hands between hers. “Don’t... don’t give up hope. We... I’ll do what I can to...”

“Michelle!”

Muttering a curse under her breath Michelle straightened up again and turned around.   
A nurse was waving at her. “I need a signature, and you have to look at a...”  
“I’m coming!” Michelle called back, and over her shoulder, she said: “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

When she was gone, Ty sat down beside Anders again and closed an arm around him. “He’ll be all right,” he said in a somewhat rough voice as he pulled Anders close. “He’ll be okay.”

DOA.

Those three letters were burning a hole in Anders’s mind. His heart was beating so hard and fast that his ribs hurt. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. How could this be happening? What nightmare was he trapped in all of a sudden after that day had started so good?  
His whole mind shut down in complete denial and refused to even think of it. He barely registered Dawn sitting down beside him. 

“Where’s Mike off to?” Ty suddenly asked.  
“Didn’t he mention something about coffee?” Dawn gave back.  
“Now?” Ty’s voice took on a very angry note. “Why does the egghead think that we need coffee right now?”  
Dawn could only shrug.

All three of them refused to dwell on the thought that Russell was not the boy still in surgery. Time slowed down, however, and the minutes passed slower and slower. Agonizingly slow. Dragged out like old chewing gum. And still no news. 

Leaning against his brother, Anders had his eyes closed and listened to his heart beat in time with the one single word pulsing through his brain. 

_No no no no..._

Cold and hot shivers kept chasing each other up and down his whole body, and he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. Despite the fact that he was no longer wearing his tie and had undone the two uppermost buttons of his shirt, he still felt as if he was being choked.

Twenty minutes later Mike re-appeared, and Ty was the first to notice. He tensed when he saw Mike shake hands with a doctor. Anders noticed Ty tense up and lifted his head. 

Mike was heading into their direction, and his face was grey, deep lines carved around his mouth.

“The fuck have... you been, Mike?” Ty asked, but the expression on Mike’s face made him falter.   
“I was...” Mike took a deep breath. “I was down in the morgue.”

At that, Anders slowly got up, and the ground under his feet was swaying as he took a step towards his older brother. 

_No... please no... dear god, please no..._

“I... I went down to look at the dead boy so... so Anders wouldn’t have to, and...”

Anders had reached him now, and Mike closed both hands around his shoulders as he shook his head.

“It’s not him,” Mike whispered hoarsely. “It’s not Russ.”

Anders could do nothing else but fall against him, and he clamped his arms around Mike’s chest while he buried his face into Mike’s shoulder. Mike closed his arms firmly around Anders and held on.

“Thank you,” Anders whispered into his shoulder. “Thank you, Mikkel... I don’t... I owe you. I fucking owe you.”  
“You owe me nothing,” Mike gave back and tightened his embrace. “It’s going to be okay, Andy. He’s going to be okay.”


	32. Chapter 32

Anders and Mike had just parted again when someone called out to them. Or rather, to Anders.

“Mr Johnson!” It was a couple, doubtless another pair of parents who had just arrived, and now the mother was running towards them after they had talked to the nurse at the reception desk. “Mr Johnson!” 

Anders’s ribcage was suddenly trapped in a wrench. If they had just arrived that meant...

“Mr Johnson...” The woman had reached him now, out of breath and pale with worry. “Mr Johnson... What did you...”  
Her husband had caught up and put an arm around his wife. “Janet...”

Anders couldn’t really say he knew them; he knew their names, and that was it. And the name of their kid, but only because Russ had mentioned him. Russ, who was still in surgery and that last boy... Nathan... 

Anders felt the eyes of the distraught mother on him and the wrench around his chest tightened painfully.

“Mr Johnson...” The mother’s voice was flat with terror. “There are only... only two left...”  
Anders was unable to speak.   
“Mr Johnson...” There were tears spilling from her eyes now. “There has to be a mistake, right? It can’t be... it can’t be one of our babies is dead...”  
The wrench tightened, and Anders could only look at his brother.

Mike took a deep breath, and closed a hand around Anders’s arm. “Mrs...”  
“Scott...” Was the reply, a strained whisper.   
“Mrs Scott... I am...” Mike had to swallow. “I was... I am Russell’s uncle and... I was... I was down in the morgue.”

You could see it; you could see it in the mother’s eyes, that moment when she realised what Mike was about to say. She backed up a little and was shaking her head as her eyes widened.

“The boy down there, it...” Mike shook his head. “I’m sorry... I am so sorry... but it wasn’t Russ.”

“No...” It was a quiet whisper, toneless and dead. “No.”  
Her husband’s face had gone white and his eyes reddened as he closed both arms around his trembling wife.   
“No...” She said again, her eyes glassy and filling with tears. “It’s not true... it’s a mistake... there has to be another child... it’s not Nathan... not my baby...”

“I am so sorry,” Mike said again in a low voice. “I am so terribly sorry.”

Anders felt Ty and Dawn step closer behind him and took a step back, because he had the feeling that any moment, his legs would give way under him. 

For a moment, the two shocked parents just stared at them.

“You...” The father suddenly said, and his eyes on Anders were murderous. “You!”  
Anders took another unsteady step back.   
“You!” It was a bellow of rage, and at that moment, Ty grabbed Anders’s arm to steady him. “You! You bloody selfish asshole! You, who never wanted that kid of yours! He was just tossed into your life, and you never wanted him!” Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and his hands were curled into fists. “You don’t even love your child, so why are you allowed to keep him! You never wanted him, and he still lives! Why is Nathan dead? We love him! We wanted him! Why do you get to keep your son and we have to lose ours when we love him so much!!”

For a few heartbeats it really looked as if he was going to attack, and Mike and Ty already stepped closer, but then he broke off with a sudden sob and his hands fell limply down to his side. A nurse had heard the yelling and came hurrying over, and she immediately paged a doctor. 

Mike and Ty steered Anders away and back to the chairs while the nurse and the doctor attended to the shocked parents. 

But before Anders was even able to sit down again, Michelle came almost running around the corner. She was a little out of breath when she reached them, and she was wearing blue scrubs now instead of her white coat. 

“Michelle?” Mike took a step towards her. “What the hell?”  
“Complications,” Michelle said flatly. “We’re running out of blood packs. Is one of you a suitable donor?”  
“Running out of blood packs?” Dawn hastily got up. “How can a hospital of this size...”  
“Russell has the misfortune to have a very impractical blood type,” Michelle cut in. “He’s an O- so he can only receive O- and that’s a rare type so...”

The wrench tightened even more, and all warmth slowly began to drain from Anders’s body. “I am,” he said tonelessly. “I’m an O-.”  
“Great.” Michelle took his arm, then noticed his facial expression. “Okay, I know. But you need to do this for Russell!”  
“I wasn’t going to say no,” Anders snapped. “The fuck did you think I was going to say no?”  
Michelle swallowed and shook her head. “I know that...”  
“Shut up,” Anders whispered. “Just tell me what I need to do.”  
“Come with me.”  
“I’m coming as well,” Mike said.  
Michelle just nodded.

Few things freaked Anders out more than blood. Or needles. Blood and needles combined, as in a blood donation, exponentiated the horror, which was the reason for Anders never donating blood even if he knew his blood was the most valuable, as it could be given to anyone. He just couldn’t do it. He had tried two times and had passed out the moment the needle had broken his skin.   
He mentioned as much to Mike, who had his hand on Anders’ elbow. 

“This is different,” Mike said calmly as Anders lay down on the stretcher while Michelle began to ready all sorts of stuff he did not want to even think about. “This is for Russ.”

Anders nodded and closed his eyes when Michelle put the tourniquet around his arm. The thought of Russell’s life depending on this was the only thing that kept him from running away.

“Just don’t look,” Michelle said as she carefully palpitated the skin for a suitable vein. “Focus on breathing.”

Staring at the ceiling Anders tried to keep his breathing calm, but then Michelle’s hands vanished and with the realisation that the next thing he would feel was the needle he suddenly felt nauseous. His head moved almost of its own accord.

Mike took his other hand and stepped closer. “Eyes on me, Anders.”  
Anders turned his head.   
“Eyes on me,” Mike said again.

It wasn’t the pain of the needle breaking this skin that made Anders gasp. It was the sensation of the needle, and the thought of blood, and the thought of the needle sitting in his body, in his vein...  
Anders held on to Mike’s hand. Mike pretended not to notice that his bones were ground together. 

Michelle had secured the needle with a strip of tape and left in a hurry. The room was swaying.

“Keep looking at me, Anders.” Mike’s voice was firm.   
Anders kept his eyes on Mike’s face.   
“Why are you doing this?”

Anders knew what Mike was aiming at, but was convinced it wouldn’t work. “I’m doing this for Russell,” he said, and for some strange reason, the whole thing was indeed suddenly a little less horrible. Mike nodded, and he said it again. “I’m doing this for Russ.” Suddenly, it was bearable.   
“Keep telling yourself that,” Mike said without letting go of his hand. “You’re almost halfway.”

When Michelle came back she was wearing a surgical cap; she put on gloves and swiftly removed the needle.   
“Didn’t know you were so efficient,” Mike said half-jokingly.  
“Fuck off.” She pressed a wad of cotton wool onto the puncture. “I didn’t buy that medical diploma, you know.” She gathered everything up and handed Mike a small piece of band aid. “Keep pressure on the puncture for a few minutes. Then you can put that on.”

With that, she was gone again. Anders pressed his finger against the ball of cotton wool and fought the urge to heave.

* * *

The waiting continued. 

When Anders and Mike had returned, Ty and Dawn had wordlessly embraced Anders before he had sat down, hunched over and his face in his hands. Ty was sitting on his right and had an arm around his shoulders, and Mike was on the left, his arm around Anders’s back. Dawn was slowly pacing back and forth, her arms crossed tightly in front of her chest.

Mike had tried to call Axl and Olaf earlier, but neither of them had answered their phone. So he had left a voicemail, but had heard nothing so far from either of them. He got up when they all heard steps, but whoever it was, it wasn’t a six foot guy who was hurrying down the corridor.

“Anders!”  
Anders lifted his head, and then slowly got up as well.  
“Anders!” Out of breath, Christine came to a halt before him, very obviously hastily dressed and with her hair in complete disarray. “Oh my... god, Anders, how is... how is he?”  
“Christine?”  
She ran both hands through her hair to smooth it back. “Emma had to stay at home... She caught a stomach bug and threw up all night... she was devastated she couldn’t come but... we were watching TV and then there was the breaking news about the accident and you weren’t answering your phone...”

Before Anders had even a chance to process it, she had flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. And when she leaned back, she placed a hand onto his cheek. 

“Anders... how is he? What has happened to him?”

It took a moment to register, but then Anders realised it and took a step away before not very gently pushing her hand off his face. 

“He’s in surgery,” he said flatly. “And there... there were complications and I...”  
“Oh Anders...” She shook her head and swallowed. “Is there anything I can do?” She reached out as if to embrace him again, and Anders swatted her hands away.   
“Get out of my face. I can’t handle that right now. No, I don’t need anything. I have my family here.”  
Christine took a step back and swallowed again. Her face was decidedly paler now. “Anders, I’m sorry if...”  
“Just...” Anders gritted his teeth. “Just leave me alone. Just go!”   
“But I only want to...”

He was about to lose it. “My son...” His arm shaking, he pointed at the general direction into which the doctors usually vanished. “My son is about to die, and I have nothing... nothing! Nothing to spare for a woman who can’t make up her fucking mind!”

Christine pressed her lips together and took another step back. “I’m sorry.”   
Mike stepped to his side and took Anders’s arm. “Anders, just...”  
“No.” Christine tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “No, I deserved that.” 

Looking back and forth between Anders, who looked as if he was about to lose his mind, and Christine who was kneading her fingers, Ty stepped closer as well. 

“I think you’d better leave,” he said gently.  
Christine nodded slowly. “I’d better, yes. I’m sorry if...” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.” 

Then she turned around, but after only two steps, she stopped again as she passed Dawn. 

“Could I give you my number, please? You don’t have to call me. Just text me, just... please drop me a line when you know something? Please?”

Dawn took a deep breath and nodded, then produced a small notepad and a pencil from her handbag.

Christine left again, after casting one last glance at Anders who was dragging his hands down his face.

“Make up her mind?” Ty stepped beside him, his voice slightly confused. “Did you get a brush-off from her?”  
“Yes I did, and with all that ‘let’s be friends’ and ‘it’s not because of you but me’ crap that goes with it. Fuck!”  
Ty patted his shoulders after exchanging an unhappy look with Dawn.

Anders had just about managed to calm down a little when a nurse with a clipboard appeared. She looked terribly tired.

“Mr Johnson?”   
Anders slowly turned around.   
“We need a signature,” she said curtly. “The doctors are trying to save his left arm but it doesn’t look as if they’re successful. We need your consent in case we have to amputate.”  
She was holding out the pen to him, but Anders was unable to move.  
“It’s to save his life, Mr Johnson,” the nurse said sharply.  
“I know,” Anders said tonelessly and took the offered pen. 

The nurse took pen and clipboard and vanished again.

Anders’s mind was reeling.

_He was just tossed into your life, and you never wanted him_   
_You don’t even love your child_   
_You never wanted him_

The worst part was that it was true. He had made the choice, but he hadn’t really wanted all this. But something had made him choose to take Russell and give him a home. Something had made him want to give Russell something that he himself never had. But want him? He hadn’t taken Russell because he had wanted a child. Maybe a weird attack of Helper’s Syndrome, the need to compensate for his own past... but not because he had _wanted_ him. Not because he had wanted _him._

_Maybe I can’t make him feel loved, but I could make him feel safe_

As good as it gets. It would never be more. It couldn’t.  
He’d known that from the beginning. The multitude of reasons he’d given himself and others for his choices didn’t change the fact that love had never been a part of the equation. 

_Nothing can just make you fall in love with your son, Anders_

Anders slowly sat down again and fished his phone out of his pocket. He switched it on and scrolled through the menu to load a picture. Mike and Ty sat down beside him again, both looking at his screen as well. They put their arms around him again, Ty’s around his shoulders, Mike’s around his back.

“It... it’s not even a year ago when...” Anders said haltingly. “...when all I wanted...” His voice broke. “All I wanted was for things to go back the way they had been. I should... I should never have done it... I should’ve given him into care, or given him up for adoption... I never... I can’t... I can’t do this...”  
“Anders...” Ty shook his head.  
Anders looked up at him, and he couldn’t focus properly on his brother’s face. “But it doesn’t...” he said huskily. “It doesn’t go back to what it was... it will never be like it was before.”  
“No, it won’t,” Ty said and reached out with his other arm to take one of Anders’s hands. 

“I can’t handle this...” Anders muttered, a jagged edge to his voice. “I can’t... I just...” 

He couldn’t even say when it had happened. Maybe that day when he had realised Russell had been expecting to be sent back to Wellington. Maybe that moment when Russell had touched his face for the first time. Maybe that moment when he had found an alligator in his bed. Or when he had seen that amazing, beautiful smile for the first time. 

At the thought of maybe never seeing that smile again, something inside him snapped. 

“I can’t...” Anders couldn’t suppress his tears anymore. “I can’t... I can’t lose him...” He covered his face with his hands and his head dropped forward, too heavy, too heavy, like the weight on his shoulders threatening to break his back, it was killing him, together with the white hot pain in his chest, it was killing him...

“I can’t lose him...” He sobbed into his hands, barely registering his brothers tightening their arms around him. “I can’t...” He dropped his hands and looked up at Ty again. “I didn’t... I never wanted him and I thought... I thought... so many times I regretted ever having met him but... Ty...” He swallowed hard, and the vice around his chest tightened and he could hardly breathe anymore. “It’s not even a year ago that I wished I’d never met him, and... I never wanted him, and I have regretted this so many times...” He wiped the back of his hands across his eyes. “He said I don’t love him, but why is the thought of.... of ...losing him so fucking unbearable?”  
Ty looked at him for a moment. “Because he was wrong,” he said gently.

Anders looked back with his eyes widening while the tears ran down his face unheeded. It was only a whisper, a terrified whisper.

“What am I... Ty what am I going to do without him?”

Ty wordlessly pulled him close. There was no answer to that question.


	33. Chapter 33

On many occasions, Anders had been through what he had believed to be the worst time of his life. Sometimes, he had even believed that things could never get worse.

In hindsight, that notion was absolutely ridiculous.

Although to be fair, he would never have believed anyone telling him, back before the arrival of the letter from the MoJ, that he would have a son one day who would become a major part of his life. 

Anders kept staring at the clock. It was getting close to dinner time now, and he was dimly aware of the fact that technically, he should be hungry by now as his last meal had been breakfast. The thought of food made his stomach turn, however. 

Olaf and Axl had finally arrived, too; and Axl was in tears and pacing restlessly around while Olaf sat on a chair, in a fucking lotus seat, and had his eyes closed. His lips were moving soundlessly.

The sound of footsteps and a low conversation between two people heading into their direction had all of them on their feet again, and around the corner came two doctors in blue scrubs, still wearing surgical caps and with their masks hanging under their chins. 

Anders felt a hand at his elbow, but neither knew nor cared which one of his brothers it was. One of the doctors now pulled off the cap and stuffed it into a pocket, and as she approached them it was evident that she was exhausted. She exchanged a few last words with the other doctor, who nodded and left again, before approaching Anders and his family.

“Mr Johnson?”  
Anders nodded, trying to keep his breathing calm.  
The doctor managed a smile. “I’m Dr Ashley Barnes, I’m in charge of... Russell, was it?”  
Anders nodded again. “How...”  
“You... You have been informed of the complications, I gather.”  
“Yes, but no details,” Mike said.

The doctor nodded and ran a hand through her hair with a sigh. “Today was hell incarnate, but I guess I don’t have to tell you that. I apologize for the poor information management.”  
“Can we please...” Anders meant to adjust his collar but it was as undone as it could get. “How is he? What...” He helplessly broke off.  
“There’s a hairline skull fracture,” Dr Barnes now said. “But that is nothing dangerous, there was no loss of cerebral fluid. He just needed a lot of stitches. What worried us was his arm. It had been crushed and had a shard of shattered plastic covering from the interior embedded which caused a dangerous amount of bleeding.”

“So...” Anders’s mind shied away from the thought of the clipboard.  
“So.” The doctor unceremoniously arched her back. “When I took over there was talk of amputation and...” She looked at Anders and met his eyes. “It was a near thing, I won’t lie to you. We almost lost him twice. And without that emergency donor, we would have, the second time.”

Anders unconsciously touched the crook of his left arm. The doctor noticed that move and smiled, despite her tiredness. 

“We made it, Mr Johnson. He made it. He’ll be kept in an artificial coma for a couple of days for monitoring because of the possibility of cranial bleeding.”

“So he’ll be fine, right?” Axl cut in. “He’s fine, or he will be, right?”  
Dr Barnes looked up at him. “There is always a risk. He’s not critical, but some complications are unforeseeable. He’ll need immunosuppressive drugs for a time as well so there are certain risks.”  
“And his arm?” Axl’s voice was a bit unsteady.  
“It’ll be a long way to recovery, but children are very adaptive.” She smoothed her hair back with both hands now. “He’s on his way to the ICU now but with any luck, he won’t be there for long.”  
“Can we see him?” Dawn asked anxiously. “Is that possible?”  
“We have to keep the traffic in his room to a minimum,” the doctor gave back. “So it’s only the parents who are allowed to see him at this point.” She smiled at Dawn and Anders.  
“Oh, I’m only his auntie,” Dawn gave back quickly.

Anders hadn’t even registered that the doctor had mistaken Dawn for his wife. Together, they made their way upstairs to the ICU, but only after Anders had put on a coat, overshoes of plastic, a cap and a mask was he allowed into the room. 

He would have thought a heart could break only once, but apparently he had been wrong. The sight of the boy in a hospital bed surrounded by all sorts of scary looking and sounding machinery, with a thick neck brace and his head so tightly bandaged that only his face as visible, hurt him so much it brought tears to his eyes. 

“Hey,” he said softly after crouching down and leaned close. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.” 

He didn’t sound very convincing, to his own ears at least. 

“It’s going to be okay. I know you hurt, and you’re scared. That’s okay. I’d be scared too if it was me. But it’s going to be okay.” 

The stupid mask was fucking uncomfortable, especially when talking. 

“But you’ll be all right. May take a while, but you’re going to be okay. Just... just don’t give up. Don’t think... I know you’ve been through so much. Maybe you think it’s not worth it anymore. But it is. I promise it will be.” He blinked his tears away. “You gotta fight, Russ, but I know you’re strong enough. And it’ll be worth it. There’s... there’s so many books to read, and so much to see. You want to see Big Ben, right? I can take you there, no problem. Just a few hours on a plane. We can go and see Big Ben, and while we’re there, we can also go to Denmark, and Sweden and Norway, where the Vikings came from. You’ll love it. Maybe we can even make a cruise in a Viking boat.” 

He cautiously reached out and traced a trembling finger across Russell’s cheek. “It’ll be worth it, Russ. Life is good. Don’t give up, please. Please don’t give up.”

There was no sign the boy had registered the touch.   
“  
It’s going to be okay,” Anders said again. “Just... just stay with me, okay? I promise it’ll be okay.”

Every fibre of his being was bridling at the thought of having to leave him. But he couldn’t stay any longer, and once he had gotten rid of all that protective clothing again, he stood outside the room staring at Russell through the glass pane.

“Anders,” Ty said at one point. “I guess we’d better get you home.”  
“I won’t leave him.”  
“Anders, there’s no use in standing here...”  
“I won’t leave him!”  
“Anders!” Ty took his shoulders and forced Anders to look at him. “I get it. I totally get it. But you’ve been here for almost twelve hours now and haven’t eaten anything and... Really, Anders, I get it. But you’re of no use to him when you pass out from exhaustion and can’t be here for him when he wakes up.”

That was a point Anders could not ignore. There was nothing he could do for him now, and while he would gladly have spent the next thirty-six hours at his bedside, he couldn’t do that. Ty was right. He should go home and eat and sleep. Russell would need him when he woke up.

After a last glance at his son, Anders let his brothers steer him away.

* * *

The house was empty. Which was strange, since he had spent quite a few weekends without Russell here when the boy had been with Ty and Dawn. But in the knowledge that this wasn’t the case there was a huge, Russell-shaped hole that was as painful as it was frightening.

Anders still wasn’t hungry but he ate the sandwich that Ty had made. It tasted of cardboard and felt like a rock in his stomach. 

“I’m going to stay,” Ty said as he accompanied Anders upstairs. “I can’t imagine you want to be alone tonight.”  
“No...” Anders tried to smile at his brother. “I don’t.”

He didn’t know what made him go into Russell’s room when he had reached the landing. The bed, with the Avengers bed sheets, was somewhat straightened with Al sitting on the pillow, just waiting for bed time. Anders slowly walked over to the bed and knelt down, running a finger down Al’s back.

“He’s not coming home tonight,” he said to Al. Christ, was that his voice? “But as soon as he’s out of ICU I’ll take you to him. Promised.”

Ty leaned into the doorway and crossed his arms while blinking his tears away. Anders remained on his knees next to Russell’s bed for a moment longer, then he patted Al’s head as he got up and headed for the door with hanging shoulders.

“I’ll take care of the kitchen,” Ty said to Anders when the latter left Russell’s room and headed for his own. “You just go to bed.”  
Anders shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”  
“Maybe not.” Ty patted his shoulders. “But you look like you could. At least get some rest.”  
Anders nodded again, completely unconvinced that it would happen. 

Ty left him to get ready for bed and headed downstairs again to sort out the dishes and start the dishwasher. He went into the living room and took the remote for the TV, but after a moment put it down again with a shake of his head and went upstairs as well. 

He stuck his head through the door of Anders’s bedroom to check on his brother, and shaking his head with a sigh, walked over to the bed. Quite obviously, Anders had passed out the moment his head had hit the mattress, because the duvet was still folded at his feet. With a soft smile Ty pulled it up. 

Only then did he discover that Anders had fallen asleep with his face buried into Russell’s pillow.

Wiping his tears away he headed for the spare bedroom and texted Dawn that Anders was asleep. He mentioned the pillow, and Dawn didn’t reply for a long time. Then she told him to take good care of his brother, and Ty replied that he would. They wished each other a good night and Ty put the phone down with a heavy sigh.

Ty was able to fall asleep, but he slept fitfully and every time he woke up he went and checked on his brother, but Anders didn’t move an inch for the rest of the night.

* * *

They were back at the hospital after breakfast – Ty didn’t mention the pillow, and neither did Anders – where they met the others who arrived shortly after, but there was no change. At least it wasn’t worse, but it was still only Anders who was allowed into the room, and only in full protective gear.

This time, Mike nudged Olaf in the ribs when he found him sitting in a lotus seat on one of the chairs in the waiting area.

“What is that bullshit even?” he asked.  
Olaf looked up at him. “I’m praying,” he said simply. “I’m praying to Bragi to take care of his charge.”

A deep, heavy silence followed these words, then Anders fell into the chair next to him. 

“Why didn’t I think of that?” He asked numbly.  
“You’re a little pre-occupied,” Olaf replied in a mild voice.  
“Thank you,” Anders muttered and dragged his hands down his face. “This is driving me fucking crazy.”  
“I’d be worried if it wouldn’t,” Olaf said. 

Anders didn’t know what to reply.

* * *

With no signs of cerebral bleeding, they woke Russell up the next day, but he was drugged to his eyeballs with painkillers so he didn’t react to Anders’s presence, not visibly at least. Which was probably as well, in a way, as the sight of the masked face and the cap would have scared him more than comforted him. 

For the next days, Russell’s condition remained stable, and with no signs of infection, it was decided that he could leave the ICU. There was still a risk of infection though, until the arm was healed enough so all those bits of metal could be removed and replaced with a normal cast. 

Russell was more responsive now as well, and he managed a brave little smile when Anders presented him with Al whom he settled into the crook of the boy’s right arm. The left arm was fully immobilised by the metal fixture and thus Russell was forced to lie flat on his back.

“My head hurts,” he whispered when Anders had sat down in the chair next to the bed.  
“I know.” It cost him quite an effort to remain calm. “It’ll be better soon. It’ll take a while, but you’ll be as right as rain again.”  
“My head really hurts.”  
“I know. Your head was injured quite badly.” Anders cautiously took Russell’s right hand in his, closing his fingers carefully around it to not touch the cannula. “But it will be better soon.”  
“Okay.” There was another brave smile.

Anders let go of his hand again and reached down into the bag he had put down next to the chair.

“You know what else I brought?”  
Russell tried to shake his head which didn’t work because of the neck brace. “No,” he whispered.

With a smile, Anders held up the book, the one with Odin on the cover, and despite the tiredness and pain he had to be in, Russell’s eyes lit up. And after clearing his throat, Anders leaned back and opened the book at the bookmark he had put there the last time he had read Russell a bedtime story. It already seemed ages ago when it was in fact less than a week.

* * *

Anders left again when Dawn and Ty arrived, but he didn’t tell Russell that he was going to attend the funeral. Not that he felt any desire to go, but because he felt compelled to do so. As far as he was aware all parents were asked by the school to be there to show their support and pay their respects, and so he did as well. 

The church was packed. There were indeed not only parents from the first graders but practically everyone, and Anders ended up sitting next to a woman whom he had never seen before.

As he sat there in the back row in his black suit and with his black tie, Anders stared at the achingly small coffin and felt as if he had white hot needles in his spine at the thought of how close it had been. How lucky he was that there was only one, and not two small white coffins. It was the only thing he could think of and he was lost in a haze of utterly frightening thoughts. The sight of the coffin made him feel as if someone had stuck a knife into his heart and was now twisting it by the hilt.

At the end of the service, they played _Tears in Heaven._   
The woman next to him offered Anders one of her tissues, and Anders took it with a grateful nod. 

He was hesitant about approaching the grieving parents to offer his condolences, but in the end, he did so while trying to avoid looking into the open grave with the small white coffin covered in flowers. The Scotts looked up at him as he approached.

“I... I am so sorry,” he said in a low voice. He could hardly meet the mother’s eyes. “I...”  
Janet Scott looked at him and shook her head. Tears were running down her cheeks.  
“Mr Johnson...” Her husband’s voice was rough. “Mr Johnson I... I’m sorry about what I said in the hospital...”  
“No,” Anders said, his heart heavy in his chest. “I... I understand your pain; I... I really do.”  
Their eyes met for a moment, then Mr Scott nodded. “Take good care of him. Life is precious.”  
“I know.” Anders had a hard time keeping his own tears at bay at the thought of how close he had been to losing his son. “I know.”

They looked at each other in silence for a moment before they simultaneously moved forward and embraced.

“I am so sorry...” Anders said again.

Mr Scott didn’t reply, and neither did his wife. Of course there was still bitterness in the way they looked at him, but it was no longer the despairing hate Anders had seen in the hospital. Not that he blamed them for it. The thought of being in their place... He could have easily forgiven them even if he had been socked in the face.

* * *

Ty was waiting for him at home, something Anders hadn’t expected but that he was grateful for. Talking to his brother saved him from falling into a deep, dark pit of emotions he could hardly handle.

“I don’t understand it,” Anders said to him over the coffee Ty had made. “I don’t fucking get it.”  
“Get what?”  
“That all the time...” Anders clutched his cup. “All that time, even with the touch training and fuck, I was... I never really... I was never really comfortable touching him. That was mutual, but still...” He had to swallow, but the brick in his throat refused to budge. “Fuck... Ty, I... I was never really okay with it, but now that I can’t... now I just want to hold him so bad... I am so fucked in the head I can’t believe it.”  
“No.” Ty took his hands in both of his. “You’re only human. How were you supposed to keep track of all that has been going on in your life and in your head? And sometimes... I know that sounds trite, but things like these happen almost always without us noticing them.”

Anders kept staring at his brothers’ hands. “I miss him.”  
“We all do,” Ty gave back gently.

They kept holding each other’s hands and their coffee went cold on them.


	34. Chapter 34

Even being literally tied to the bed and in pain, Russell hardly complained and valiantly suffered everything, from the inability to even drink water and being fed via gavage to having to use a bedpan.   
Anders spent the visiting hours at his bed side, reading from the book until his voice was giving out on him. It was by the end of the second week that they had gone through the whole book and Anders promised him they’d start over the next day.

“Anders...” Mike had been visiting today too, and he looked at him with a worried expression. “Shouldn’t you think about getting back to work?”  
Anders was about to snap at his brother but kept it down to bristling. “I won’t leave him to stew in that bed alone.”  
“I get it. But aren’t you risking losing your job? Again?”  
That was something Anders was unable to deny, so he lowered his eyes. “I know... I just... I don’t want to leave him alone.”  
“Of course you don’t,” Mike replied. “But you’re not alone in this, either. If you can’t be here with him, one of us will. We all can make sure he’ll never be alone.”

Then Mike walked over to the bed and carefully sat down at the foot end.

“Hey Russ,” he said with a smile. “I know you’d rather have Anders here, but he needs to go to work. ‘Cause if he doesn’t, and loses his job, then he won’t be able to pay for the house, and other stuff too. Then you’d have to move, and none of us wants that. But I promise you won’t be alone. One of us can always be here. And we can read books, too.” He winked.

Russell chewed his lips, and his eyes swivelled back and forth, until Anders leaned a little forward into his line of sight, as the boy still couldn’t move his head. Russell looked up at him and chewed some more on his lower lip for a moment. 

“Okay,” he said then.  
“Really?” Anders managed a smile. “You sure? You’re not scared?”  
“No,” Russell replied after another futile attempt at shaking his head. “It’s okay. I’m not scared.”  
“Really?” Anders shook his head with an affectionate smile. The brave little boy.  
“Yes, Uncle Mike promised, right?”  
“Promised,” Mike said firmly. “Uncle-word-of-honour.”

Russell managed a brave little smile.

* * *

Mike immediately set to organizing a rota, taking into account visiting hours and working hours, and with all of them eager to make Russell’s time more bearable, the whole thing ran like clockwork (to everyone’s big surprise). 

The book only got a rest when it was Olaf’s turn as he just sat down cross-legged on the foot end of the bed and told his stories. And more often than not he lulled the boy to sleep with his deep and gentle voice.

And with the incredible healing capacities of a healthy child, Russell was fast to recover. It was three weeks after the accident that the doctors said they could now remove the metal fixture, and Anders spent another morning in the hospital, but this time only mildly nervous as he waited for Russell to come out of surgery. 

He was waiting for him in his room, and when they wheeled the bed in, Anders was so relieved he had to fight his tears. The metal fixture was indeed gone, as was the stomach tube, and while Russell still was somewhat dazed, he managed to smile weakly at his father.

The next morning, when Anders entered his room, he found the upper half of the bed raised and the boy sitting upright against it. The arm was now in a plaster cast from shoulder to the fingertips. His head was still tightly bandaged however and the neck brace still in place, but now that he was able to sit upright again the stomach tube was gone and he could eat and drink again. 

Not long now, and he would be allowed to go home.

“Hey,” Anders said and sat down on the bed. “I guess you feel tons better now.”  
Russell’s smile was decidedly brighter now. “Tons,” he confirmed. “I had porridge for lunch.”  
“Sounds better than being fed goo through a tube,” Anders replied.   
Russell tried to nod, then frowned. “Yes,” he said. “It smelled funny.”

There was an awkward moment of silence, in which Anders didn’t know what to say, feeling stuck with the urge to do the one thing he was sure Russell didn’t want. 

It had been so close. He had been so close to losing that boy. He was still freaked out an almost ashamed, , that it had taken something as terrible as Russell almost dying to make him realise what the boy meant to him. He just wished at that moment that he was better at this, more natural about touching, like a proper father would be. 

But then Russell looked up with that strange longing Anders had seen on Dawn’s sofa, cast at him over a book about Robin Hood. And he hadn’t even finished lifting his arm when Russell shuffled a little closer and leaned against him. Anders closed both arms around the boy and pulled him close. 

He tightened his embrace and closed his eyes, and Russell snuggled against him with a deep, deep sigh. 

“I want to go home,” he whispered.  
“I know. I want you to come home too. I kinda... I miss you.”  
At that, Russell leaned back, and now he was looking at Anders with that puzzled, wide-eyed stare; that Post-Therapy look he hadn’t seen in a while, and Anders could only nod with that all too familiar fucking brick back in his throat. 

“I want to go home...” Russell said again, his voice strangely small. He leaned back into Anders’ embrace. “I want to go home with you.”  
“I’d take you home with me right now, if I could,” Anders replied, surprised at how steady his voice was despite the turmoil in his mind and the brick in his throat now accompanied by a knot in his stomach. “But the doctors have to say it’s okay first.”

Russell sighed again.

Anders happened to look up at Mike then, who was sitting on a chair in the corner with his legs crossed, and for some strange reason he almost, for a second only, expected him to say something like _pansy_ , or mumbling something about _sentimental idiots_ , but he only gave him a wistful smile. 

Really, a lot of things had changed during the last year.

* * *

Back at home that evening, Anders sat at the dining table with a beer and stared into the empty air. Occasionally his eyes would focus on the fish tank, but the sight of the catfish and the striped cichlids made him uneasy and restless. 

He had been living alone in this house for almost four weeks now. Of course not completely alone all of the time, but the occasional night that Ty had spent with him hadn’t really made a difference.   
His thoughts turned back to the time he had more or less moved in with him and Dawn, together with Russ.

A year ago, give or take, he had been freaked out by Russell’s sheer presence, had doubted his sanity, and had had no real explanation why he had had taken a boy with him that he didn’t know and who meant nothing to him. 

Truth to be told, he had been pretty naive to think he could handle his life just like that with a child suddenly being a part of it. But for some reason, and for the first time in his life, all those obstacles, all those curve balls thrown at him and all those spokes put into his wheel had only hardened his resolve to make this work, instead of his usual tactic of going the line of least resistance. 

In the beginning, he had started the whole thing with the approach of having the boy live with him and taking care of his needs. What had happened instead was that Russell had not just lived in his house but had become a part of his life. An important part. A lot of things that had him shake his head or recoil in horror had suddenly become a part of his nature. 

As he got up and went into the kitchen to dispose of the bottle, his eyes fell onto the art installation on the windowsill: A thrift shop bought glass milk bottle, half filled with small stones and pebbles, and a small vase filled with feathers, some of them in various states of decomposition.

Not that he had put those there in the desire to decorate the house with pebbles and feathers. No, he had done so because Russell had given them to him, and if his son thought a feather or a pebble was a precious gift then Anders was going to fucking keep it.   
He also had a colourful crayon drawing of a fish blue-tacked to the blackboard in his office. 

And as he stood there looking at the fridge door with the drawing of the two crooked, ugly stick figures holding hands that he had laminated to preserve it, he wondered what had happened to the guy who had been freaked out to the marrow of his bones by the letter of the Ministry of Justice a year ago.

The answer was simple enough, even if the thought was still a little scary: He wasn’t there anymore. After learning not only to act, but also to think like a father, he had begun to feel like a father. He _was_ a father. Had changed from Anders Johnson, declared bachelor, womanizer and career addict into Anders Johnson, a single father struggling to juggle work and his kid to abandon neither.

But he wasn’t the only one to have changed. The whole family had changed. The whole Johnson clan had suddenly turned into a functional family to provide Russell with the environment he needed to thrive and be happy, and Russell loved and adored his uncles and his aunties. And Cousin Olaf who had, after Russell had discovered his knowledge and ability to tell tales, ascended to the status of demigod.

Again, Anders wondered if Russell would ever find out about their past as gods and the fact that Cousin Olaf was, in fact, his great-grandfather. Most likely not. It would only freak him out, but occasionally, Anders couldn’t help but wonder which god Russell would have become. He would have made an excellent Bragi, but since he had already been taken, Anders was left wondering. He tried not to dwell on that thought too much. There would be no stone circle in Norsewood Forest on Russell’s twenty-first birthday. 

It was a comforting thought. Russell would live his life, his _own_ life, and not the life dictated by some weird, fucked-up fate. It felt strange, though, to imagine Russell as a man when all Anders could think of was his gap-toothed grin that he bore since he had begun to lose his baby teeth.   
Anders might become a grandfather someday. That thought seriously freaked him out; it was bad enough that he had discovered the first grey hairs on his temples the other day. 

But then he remembered how Russell had clung to his hand that day when they had watched the balloon disappear on the anniversary of April’s death. Remembered the moment when Russell had fallen into his arms, and the overwhelming emotions afterwards. A finger on his cheek. An alligator on his bed. And the smile after the Christmas concert when Anders had told him how proud he was. Which had been nothing but the plain truth.

It had been worth it. Strange but true. As much as he hurt when he thought about how close he had been to losing him. How much he missed him right now. And how much he still missed his old life every now and then, too.  
It had been worth it.

* * *

After one last x-ray of Russell’s head the doctors had given the all clear, and all that remained now was taking out the stitches and he could go home. His arm would have to remain in the cast for a while yet, and he would need a lot of physical therapy to build up the lost muscles and get back his flexibility, but in the face of what the alternative had been, he had gotten off lightly. 

Anders was making his way up to the children’s ward in an exceptional good mood that day; Russell stitches had been scheduled to be taken out this morning, and tomorrow he would finally be able to come home. 

He faltered, however, upon having reached the door to Russell’s room. He could hear Russell cry, and he could also hear Michelle fruitlessly trying to comfort him. 

Anders immediately saw upon entering what had the boy in tears.

“They cut off all my hair!” Russell sobbed as Anders walked over to the bed. “They cut it all off!”

There was only short stubble covering his head, and a stripe on the right side where the stitches had been was even shaved completely. Anders sat down on the bed with a heavy heart, and Russell immediately crawled into his lap. Still sobbing uncontrollably, he buried his face into Anders’s shoulder.

“They cut it all off,” he choked out through his tears. “I wanted to have hair like Thor, and I had hair like Thor, and they cut it all off!”  
“Russ...” Anders began as gently as he could. “I’m so sorry... but they had to do it because you hurt your head so bad and needed stitches...”  
“They cut it all off,” Russell sobbed again. The concept of a lesser evil was something that a child of his age could not understand. “And now I look ugly and stupid and I don’t wanna be like this!”

“I get it,” Anders replied as he tightened his hold around the boy. “I totally get it, and you won’t have to be like this for long, because it’ll all grow back. It will take a while, but you’ll have hair like Thor again.”  
“I don’t wanna be like this! I look ugly and stupid!”  
“No, you don’t,” Anders gave back as firmly as he could. “You’re not ugly, and you don’t look stupid, and the first one to say so... I’m going to let Axl lose on them.”

“I remember you had pretty much the same reaction,” Mike said from his position in the chair. Michelle sat down again as well, a very unhappy frown on her face.   
“What do you mean?” Anders looked up at him but could see no glee in Mike’s eyes.  
“Back when Johann shaved our heads because he thought we had lice,” Mike explained. “I couldn’t really be bothered one way or another, and Ty just thought it was funny. And you totally freaked out. I think you even said pretty much the same things: That you were ugly and didn’t want to look like this.”  
“Don’t remind me of it,” Anders said darkly. 

He remembered all too well how he had freaked out, and that Johann had had to smack him around the ears and threaten him with a drubbing with the cooking spoon if he didn’t sit still. He had been in tears and had only suffered it because the fear of a beating had been stronger. 

Russell had peeled his face out of Anders’ shoulder and was now looking up at him, but he was still sobbing. Anders looked at him with a sigh. 

“I understand,” he said softly. “I do understand, Russ. But there’s nothing I can do. I can only say that it’ll grow back. But you don’t look stupid. And you’re definitely not ugly.”  
“Most definitely not,” Michelle added in a firm voice. “You’re still a beautiful boy, Russ.”

Russell wasn’t convinced, and it took him ages to calm down at least somewhat. He was still utterly heartbroken and nothing Anders said could give him the tiniest bit of comfort. 

_Like father, like son_ , he thought. At least Russell wouldn’t get any scorn for his despair and the feeling of loss. He looked up again at Mike, who just shrugged and shook his head with a compassionate little smile.


	35. Chapter 35

That evening, as he was pacing restlessly through the house because his thoughts were all over the place, Anders desperately tried to think about anything he could do to comfort his son, but apart from trying to find a hat that Russell would like he couldn’t find a solution.

His thoughts kept turning back to Johann, his fear of lice and the brutality with which he had forced Anders to suffer the humiliation of being shorn like a fucking sheep. At least it hadn’t taken as long for his hair to grow back as it would take for Russell’s hair to grow back to the length it had been before the accident. A year, he guessed, and they would have to go through all the impracticability and awkwardness of ‘too long to be practical and yet too short to tie back’ all over again.

In a last attempt to make things as bearable as possible, Anders removed the hairbrush and all hair elastics he could find from the bathroom and stored them in one of the cupboards in his en-suite, so there were a few less reminders of what the boy had lost.

As he lay in bed later that night, he tried to remember when he had last been so unhappy on someone else’s account, and could only come to the conclusion that this was the first time of his life. And he couldn’t even do something about it. He couldn’t do a single fucking thing to make Russell feel better, as time was the only thing that would help in this case.

He fell asleep eventually, but his dreams were haunted by old memories and the feeling of utter helplessness.

* * *

After what happened the day before and his jumbled dreams, Anders kept looking at himself in the mirror as he went through his morning routine, his lips a tight line. Yes, he remembered all too well how he had freaked out, too, just as Russell had. Maybe it was vanity, maybe just the feeling of helplessness and humiliation; he could also remember Russell’s words about the ugly noises and the haircuts he didn’t want. The effect was the same. He could remember that awful feeling of a bare head and he felt so sorry for Russell he could hardly deal with it. He left the house with a heavy heart.

The plan was for Russell to be discharged sometime between breakfast and noon, and that left Anders with enough time to go and find a hat, or a cap, or anything of that kind. He wasn’t sure that it would even take the edge off Russell’s despair, but he had to do _something_.

Eventually his patience was rewarded when he found a selection of merchandise at Woolworth that included hats, scarves and socks. They had Spiderman and Superman and TMNT, and after some serious digging, he found a black beanie with the bold red A of the Avengers, but it was adult size. 

With a disappointed huff of breath he continued his digging until he found, at the very bottom, the very same beanie that looked just about Russell’s size. He headed for the checkout, but halfway there he stopped, and turned back to get the adult sized one as well. He bought both of them and left the store with a crooked little smile.

* * *

Clutching the small carrier bag with the two beanies tightly in his right hand, Anders kept listening to his unnaturally fast heartbeat on his way up in the elevator, and his nervousness grew with every step he took. He had no idea if he was doing the right thing or if he would freak Russell out even more. 

The door to the room stood open, and from what he could hear he concluded that the whole Johnson family had decided to give Russell an escort home. He hesitated again, and he could hear Olaf speak.

“It’s not that bad, Russ, really. You still have more hair than I do.”  
The answer was a wet sniffle and a sharp ‘tsk’ from Dawn. “You’re really not helping, Olaf.” 

She sat down on the bed and ran a hand up and down Russell’s back. “I know that doesn’t help you now, but it will all grow back.”  
“I don’t wanna be like this.” Russell slung his sound arm around Al and leaned forward, closing his eyes.   
“Of course not,” Dawn said, her voice soft with compassion.

Then she got up again and looked at her watch. “Anyone knows what Anders is up to?”  
“He said he’d be here before noon,” Mike said. “Wonder what held him up this time.”  
“Well he assured me he wouldn’t be at work today,” Dawn replied, trying to keep her voice calm. “He’d better show up soon. Russell wants to go home so badly.”

They heard the footsteps, and everyone looked up as Anders, somewhat hesitantly, stepped through the doorframe. Everyone fell silent at that moment, displeased remarks about his belated appearance dying before any of them could emerge.

There wasn’t a single hair left on Anders’s head.

Russell had looked up when he had heard him enter; now Al was slowly sliding out of his arm as he sat up on his knees. He stared at Anders with his mouth hanging open.

Anders slowly sat down on the bed. “Sorry I’m a bit late, but...” He shrugged. “Seeing as I didn’t have an appointment at the hairdresser’s I had to wait for my turn.”  
Russell just kept staring at him, and there was still pain and despair in his eyes, but also disbelief and deep confusion.  
“You know...” Anders shrugged again. “I felt so sorry for you... because of the hair... and I thought...”

He almost made the habitual move of nervously running a hand through his hair which wasn’t there anymore; he had done so once on his way here in the car and didn’t care to repeat the experience of touching his bare scalp. 

“You were so upset, and you said you’re ugly, which isn’t true, by the way, and that you looked stupid and that you don’t want to be like this...” He had to swallow. “And so I thought... I don’t know if this makes you feel better, but you’re my son, and you don’t have to go through this alone, and you know what, if you still think you look ugly and stupid, than we can look ugly and stupid together.” He cleared his throat. “And we can let it grow back together.”

Russell looked as if he was about to burst into tears, but then he threw himself bodily at Anders and flung his arm around his neck. Anders enveloped the boy in a tight embrace and closed his eyes. 

Around them, there was still nothing more than a stunned silence that was only broken by Dawn rummaging around in her handbag for a tissue. 

Anders felt something warm creep down from his chest into his stomach when Russell tightened his hold and snuggled against him while burying his face into the crook is his neck. It was still a saddening sensation to feel only stubble and not the thick silky strands of Russell’s hair on his face, but by the way Russell all but burrowed into Anders’s embrace, his attempt at giving the boy at least some sort of comfort had been successful.

Russell inhaled deeply and sighed, his breath warm on Anders’s skin, and then he took another deep breath. And after a third deep, heavy breath, Russell nestled even closer to him and muttered into the crook of Anders’s neck: “You... Anders, you’re... you’re the best dad ever.”

There it was again, that all too familiar brick in his throat, and Anders had to close his eyes. The tears were still burning threateningly behind his eyelids, and he pulled Russell closer so the boy was sitting on his lap. “You think so?” He asked in a low, somewhat unsteady voice.  
He could feel Russell nod. “Best dad ever.”

Then he felt the boy tense, and after a moment, Russell tensed even more and leaned back. He looked at Anders while chewing his lips, and Anders could see that puzzled, wide-eyed stare again that meant something was deeply troubling the boy, emotions he couldn’t handle and couldn’t explain, something he desperately wanted help with while not knowing how to ask for it.

Russell’s voice was trembling. “Anders...” Then he lowered his eyes.  
“Yes?”  
“Anders...” He was chewing his lips again and now hunched his shoulders as well.  
“Hm?” Anders tried to smile encouragingly when Russell looked up at him again.  
“Anders...” The look changed again, imploring and nervous at the same time. “Can I...”

The brick in Anders’s throat suddenly had the size of a house.

“Can I...” Russell bit his lip again, and his voice was suddenly very small, and almost scared, but now there was a strange, hopeful look in his eyes. “Can I call you dad?”

Anders’s heart was suddenly beating so fast it hurt, but he was unable to find words. He felt as if he had swallowed the sun, so hot and tight did his chest feel all of a sudden. He was hardly able to use his voice.

“Of course...” It was only a husky whisper. “Oh, Russ... Of course you can...”

Before he could say anything else, Russell had flung his arm around Anders again and Anders embraced him and held him as tightly as he could while rocking slightly back and forth. 

“Of course you can... if you want to. ‘Cause that’s what I am, right? Your... your dad...”  
“Best dad ever,” Russell whispered into his shoulder.

Someone behind him blew their nose, and Anders’s awareness of time and space returned. He looked over his shoulder at the others, and could see that there wasn’t a single dry eye in the room. Mike was just stuffing a handkerchief back into his pocket. 

After a moment of silence in which no one knew what to say, Olaf rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes and smiled. “You two sure know how to break hearts, you know that?”

Anders looked back at Russell with a smile, and only now did he remember the bag he had brought. He opened it with a decidedly happier smile and handed Russell the beanie. The boy took it with a grin appearing on his face. It was heart-warming to see the light return to the boy’s eyes. 

Then Anders produced the other one, and gave Russell a crooked smile. “Like father, like son, right?”  
Russell’s grin widened. “Right,” he said, and then he jumped off the bed, clutching the beanie in his right hand and not hindered in the slightest by the ungainly plaster cast. It looked decidedly less worrying after Axl had started to decorate it with felt tip pens, and everyone had drawn something cheerful and signed it with their name, even a few of the nurses. 

His grin turning into delight, Russell now raced down the corridor and yelled: “Mandy! Liza! Thomas! Look! Look!”  
A few nurses stuck their head out of the nurse’s station with confused expressions that turned into smiles.  
“Look what my... Anders... my dad... my dad did! He’s the best... best dad ever!”

Anders felt a lot of eyes coming to rest on him and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.

“Look!” Russell said again, breathless with excitement. “Look, And... my... my dad! He... he shaved his head so we can let our hair grow back together!!”

The male nurse, who had to be Thomas, a man the size of a lorry, looked first at Russell and then at Anders with a smile. “If that’s not a sign of true love then I don’t know what is,” he said in a deep voice that was surprisingly gentle for a man of his dimensions.

Anders didn’t know what to reply but was saved by Russell who burst into a run and headed for him at full speed. Anders crouched down and caught him, then swept him up, to Russell’s audible delight. 

With Anders now holding him up they were at eye level, and after a very scrutinizing look, Russell patted the stubble on his head and then reached out to pat Anders’s head as well. Anders suppressed a shudder but couldn’t help pulling a face.

“Mine’s already longer than yours,” Russell said with a bit of smugness that no one could begrudge him.  
“Yeah, you know... I thought I’d give you a head start.”  
The pun was lost on Russell, but made everyone else chuckle.

Russell tilted his head and felt his own hair again, then Anders’s. 

“Stop that.”

Russell grinned and did it again. Anders shifted the boy so he could hold him with one hand and rubbed his hand across the stubble on Russell’s head in turn. Russell reciprocated the gesture and rubbed his hand across Anders’s head and the stubble that was hardly there, and they did this with increasing ferocity until they both erupted into a fit of giggles.

Anders set the boy down again, his smile still firmly in place, and with a resolute move, put his beanie on. Black, with the bold red Avengers A. With a few difficulties due to having only one hand Russell followed suit and grinned up at him. 

In the meantime, the others had collected all of Russell’s things, and while Mike was carrying the bag, Ty now offered Al to Russell with a smile. 

Russell looked at Al and reached for him, then looked up at Anders before looking somewhat unhappily at his left arm. Acting on a hunch, Anders took Al and offered the other hand to Russ who took it with a bright and happy smile.

Holding on to Anders’s hand Russell skipped along beside him on their way to the elevator and from there to the exit and the car park.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [I can’t fight this feeling any longer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nd4j1Ms1VYE&list=PLOiBGKO9p7zvNj2ycxvvHJv-_iyG5nqpH&index=11) 
> 
> This is the story’s theme song and has been largely responsible for the existence of this story and how it panned out in the end. It would be the song for when the credits start rolling after the last scene, if this was a movie. 
> 
> So his is it, then. Thanks for sticking with me through the good times and the bad, and for comments and kudos; I love you all!  
> A special thanks to Calamity Kitten who went out of her way to send me a bag of Jet Planes from one end of the world to the other and Filikilithorinforever who was an invaluable help with all things Kiwi.
> 
> And an extra big thanks to ryuuri for her lovely illustrations!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Find my facial references for the OCs [here](http://lakritzwolf.tumblr.com/UC_Cast)
> 
> * * *

Russell’s last relapse happened a few weeks after he had been discharged, when Anders went down with something as inconsequential as a flu. He hadn’t been feeling too good and suffering from a sore throat and a headache for a while and had dragged himself through the first half of the week feeling miserable. But on Thursday afternoon that week Dawn sent him home with the reassurance of picking Russell up at school and dropping him off at home.

When Dawn and Russell arrived, Anders had been lying on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket. Dawn had taken one look at him and immediately ferried him off to bed, then called Ty who arrived somewhat later with a bag. 

Anders was more than grateful for the help and was all too happy to crawl into his bed again after saying good night to Russell. The boy looked worried, but said nothing.

That night the fever came down on him like a landslide. For the whole length of the next day he was hardly able to drag himself to the bathroom, and Dawn went into full mothering mode, keeping him hydrated with juice and tea and chicken broth.

That evening, Russell had to come to his bed to say good night. 

Later that night, Anders was woken up by a sound he had hoped he would never have to hear again: Russell’s panicked crying. He was hardly able to sit up and the room was swimming when he had finally managed, and now was more grateful than ever for Dawn’s insistence on staying so she could help.

He could hear Russell cry, and he could hear Dawn trying to comfort him, with no success. It was when Anders could identify what he was saying over and over again as _I want my dad_ that it clicked for him.

After the third attempt his voice carried enough for Dawn to hear him, and she appeared in the doorway, her face more worried than ever.

“Bring him here,” Anders said hoarsely. “I think I know what the problem is.”

He could hear the boy run towards the room and as soon as Russell had reached the bed he dropped Al and flung himself at Anders, wordlessly but still in tears. Anders gathered all his strength to pull the boy into his lap and closed both arms around him. 

“Don’t die, please don’t die, please, please don’t die...”  
“I’m not going to,” Anders muttered breathlessly. “It’s going to be okay.” He could hear Dawn inhale sharply and looked up. “His mum died because she was sick,” he said. “My guess is that this is all too familiar for him, with me getting worse and...” He swallowed hard. “I guess his mum got worse and worse and one day he said good bye to her or good night before going home, and the next day she wasn’t there anymore.”  
Dawn swallowed hard as well and pressed her lips together before she nodded. 

“Here,” Anders said, to Russell this time. He pried the boy a little away from him so he could look at his face. “I know you’re scared, but I’m not going to die. Your mum was... she had cancer, that is something very bad and people die of it. I only have a flu, you know... I have a fever, but in a few days I’ll be okay again. I promise. It’s only a flu, no one dies of a flu.” 

It was a bit of a white lie, of course, but it was what the boy needed right now.Russell calmed down considerably.

“I am not dying,” Anders said again. “I feel like sh... uh... actually, forget that, I feel like shit right now. But my guess is that Monday latest I’ll be okay again. Okay?”  
“Okay.” Russell wiped a hand across his eyes and nodded. “You have to pay the piggy bank.”  
“I know.” Anders pulled him close and into a fierce hug. “Good night, Russ. See you tomorrow.”  
“Good night, dad.”

Anders fell back into his pillow as soon as Dawn had taken the boy back to bed. She came back to check on him again before going to bed herself, and Anders was able to smile, in a fashion. 

“Piggy bank?” Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, apparently.  
“Yeah...” Anders cleared his throat. “We have a piggy bank in the kitchen and we have to pay a dollar for... for every bad word.”  
“Oh.” Dawn smiled cheerfully. “And who’s paying more?”  
Anders cleared his throat again. “It actually is... uh. We’re not... Christ, Dawn you know me. I’m setting a very bad example here.”  
Dawn shook her head with an affectionate and mildly exasperated smile before she left.

He didn’t get a chance to fall asleep before he started freezing however, and he was shivering so badly his teeth rattled. He pulled the other duvet over himself and curled up, and at one point he was so tense from freezing that his whole body hurt. But despite that, he fell asleep eventually. 

And woke up feeling like someone had emptied a bucket of water into his bed. It were his sounds of disgust as he peeled himself out of the sodden sheets that alerted Dawn, but she told him he looked tons better already. And Anders had to admit that he did feel better, a little weak in the knees maybe, but the fever had apparently burned itself out that night. 

With his clothes sticking to him as if he had been in a wet T-shirt contest he headed for the bathroom and showered for about half an hour. And when he emerged again, Dawn had already pulled off the sheets and was just hanging the duvets out of the window to air them out. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said as he adjusted the knot in the belt of his bathrobe.  
Dawn turned around with a smile. “Oh, I know. But I said I’d be here to help and well... I really don’t mind.”

She turned around again to adjust the duvet so it wouldn’t fall out, but before she could reach the window Anders had stepped up behind her; he slung both arms around her and buried his nose into her hair.

“Anders...” Dawn took a deep breath.  
He immediately let go of her.  
“I’m not sure that was entirely decent,” Dawn said cautiously.  
“No, it wasn’t,” Anders gave back without even the ghost of a smile. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t.” He fell down onto the mattress, staring at the carpet while his hands were hanging lifelessly between his knees.

Dawn sat down beside him. “Anders... you’re not...?”  
“No.” He folded his hands between his knees. “No, I’m just jealous.” Then he looked up. “Jealous of what you and Ty have.”  
“Oh Anders...” Dawn rested a hand on his forearm. “I’m sure that someone...”  
“Someone.” Anders shook his head. “I’m way past thirty and a single father, Dawn, and I don’t think it’s going to happen.”  
“But... what about... you know, that woman in the hospital?”  
“Christine? She made her intentions clear.”  
“But didn’t you say something about her being unable to make up her mind?”  
“I can’t actually remember what I said to her.”  
“Exactly that.” Dawn squeezed his forearm and let go. “But she seemed...”

Anders sighed and shook his head, then told her about the day at the beach and their conversation.

“So maybe she’s interested in me, but she’s not interested in a relationship with me.” He shrugged. “Which kind of settles it. I’m not going to beg her to reconsider. It’s awkward enough as it is with our respective kids being bffs.”  
Dawn sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I wish that was something I could help with as well.”

Anders smiled sadly. “It’s appreciated, Dawnsie. And I’m sorry for the attack just now.”  
“Anders...” Dawn shook her head. “If you want a hug, you can just say so, you know?”

Anders stared at the carpet again for a moment. “Dawn...” Then he swallowed and met her eyes. “Can I have a hug?”  
Dawn didn’t hesitate for a second before she slung both arms around him. “It’s going to be okay,” she said firmly.  
“Isn’t it supposed to be me saying that?” Anders asked with a soft chuckle under his breath.  
“I think it can’t hurt if someone tells you that every now and then.”  
“And you’re not angry with me because... you know? Just then?”  
“No.” Dawn placed a motherly kiss onto the top of his head before letting go. “And I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

Anders shook his head with a small smile and got up. “Since I can’t submit you to any more indecencies I think I have to throw you out of my bedroom now so I can get dressed.”  
“I’ll make us a coffee,” Dawn replied and left him to it. 

Anders looked at the door for a moment before he turned away again with a shake of his head. “You are a first class pathetic idiot,” he said to himself. Then he sighed, shrugged the bathrobe off his shoulders and got dressed.

* * *

Since he still wasn’t really recovered yet, Anders went to bed himself after having said good night to Russ. He had sent Dawn home again, confident that he was recovered enough to manage, and since it was Anders who had tucked Russell in that night there was no panic attack, so Anders got a full night’s worth of sleep without any interruption.

When he woke up, however, he wondered why on earth he had a heating pad at his back since he couldn’t remember having gone to sleep with one. It took him a moment to realise that the heating pad was far too large to be just that. 

With very slow and careful moves he managed to turn onto his back, and really, there he was: Russell had not only come into his bed last night, he had also managed to crawl under Anders’s blanket without him waking up and they had slept back to back for the remainder of the night. Anders turned fully around and looked at his sleeping son, curled up under his blanket and with an alligator in his arms. The impulse was there first, then the inner resistance, but then Anders just shuffled forward a little so Russell’s back was against his chest. The boy immediately snuggled closer with a deep sigh. 

Anders closed his eyes again and curled up, enveloping Russell as much as he could until the boy was nestled against him completely, then he put an arm around him and pulled him in tightly. 

No one had ever gotten this close to him, physically or otherwise. He had kept that door shut and locked on purpose, but now that he had opened it there was no closing it anymore. And everything that Anders had locked away behind it was in plain sight now; he couldn’t hide it or hide from it anymore.

It were all those things he had seen in Russell back when he had decided to make him a part of his life. That loneliness, that feeling of being abandoned, that ache for someone to care, that hunger for affection. That void where love should have been, which had made him unable to love anyone else.

But there was no denying that his son had filled a part of that void, and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t love the boy, even if he had believed it could never happen.  
With a deep sigh, Anders curled a little tighter and listened to Russell’s breathing. It was then that he realised it consciously, the sensation under his hand: it was a heartbeat. Russell’s heartbeat. 

It was comforting; it gave him a feeling of peace and being at ease that he had never known. He fell asleep again, his son’s heartbeat against the palm of his hand.

* * *

Anders was pulled back from sleep by Russell who was adjusting his position and was now resting with his head on Anders’s arm. 

“Hey,” Anders said softly.  
“Hey.”  
“Slept okay?”  
“Hm.”

Anders closed his eyes again, but Russell began to fidget a little. Anders was just about to uncurl so the boy could get up and go to the bathroom when Russell took a deep breath. 

“Dad?”  
“Yes?”  
A pause. Then: “Do you think mum is sad now?”  
“Sad?” Anders frowned at the back of Russell’s head. “Why?”  
“Because... because I didn’t come to her, to heaven, after the accident.”

Any possible reply caught in Anders’s throat. He had to swallow several times and clear his throat twice before he trusted his voice again.

“I don’t think so, Russ.”  
“Why?”  
“Because...” He took a deep breath. “Because I am sure she’d rather have you be a happy boy, and grow up, and maybe... maybe have a family and a little boy of your own one day.”  
Russell contemplated this in silence for a while. “Really?”  
“Really. I mean... if it was me, I’d absolutely want you to live and be happy.”  
“But... you’re not in heaven...” Russell shuddered and moved closer.  
“No.” Anders pulled him close. “And I have no intention of going there.”  
Russell relaxed again. “Can we... can we write her another letter?”  
“Sure. If you want, we can write her another letter, no problem.”

“It’s okay, though,” Russell said after a moment. “’cause I want to stay with you.”  
“I’d rather you stay with me, too.” Anders closed his eyes and tried to combat the memories and the fear of losing him. 

Russell nuzzled his arm on which he had bedded his head, and Anders felt a small, soft and somewhat moist touch on his skin. 

It took him a while to realise that it had been a kiss. 

But before he could retaliate and say or do anything, Russell was peeling himself away from him and sat up on his knees. Anders sat up as well, and was completely overwhelmed by the flood of warmth that washed over him when he looked at his son’s smiling face. 

There was no resisting the impulse to touch him, not anymore, and he rested both hands on the boy’s cheeks, cradling Russell’s face in his hands. “I’d miss you terribly if you were gone,” he said. “And I’m sure your mum is okay with you staying here, with me. After all, it was her who sent me a letter, asking me to come to Wellington to take care of you.”  
“And be my dad.”  
“And be... your dad.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other, two pairs of blue eyes, two pairs of dimples, two identical smiles, before Anders gave in to another impulse and leaned forward to place a kiss on Russell’s forehead. The warmth and light in the boy’s eyes when he leaned back was almost too much to handle and Anders pulled him close again. 

Russell crawled into his lap. “And you’re the best dad ever.”  
“Glad you think so.” He placed another kiss on the top of Russell’s head, just because he could. “And now let’s go and have some breakfast, and then we write your mum another letter, okay?”  
Russell leaned back and gave him one of his bright, heart-warming smiles. “Okay.”

After they had had breakfast and were dressed, Anders helped himself to another cup of coffee before they settled down at the dining table again, with a sheet of paper and Anders’s ball point pen and fortified with a plate full of fairy bread. Russell was sitting on Anders’ knees, and Anders had his left arm draped around his middle.

“So,” he said and adjusted his grip on his pen. “What do you want to tell her?”  
Russell chewed on his lower lip for a moment before he took the pen from Anders’s hand. 

_DEAR MOM_ , he wrote in crooked, wobbly letters, then handed Anders the pen back. 

Anders waited patiently, and then began to write.

* * *

Equipped with the sheet and another balloon, Russell and Anders made their way to Cornwall Park again, and on the top of One Tree Hill, Anders cast a last glance at the letter.

_DEAR MOM_

_I’m sorry I didn’t come to heaven, but I want to stay here with Anders. Anders is my dad now, and I want to stay with him. But my friend Nathan was in the bus, and he went to heaven. Could you find him and take care of him? Then he would have a mum in heaven, and you would have a little boy in heaven. Then you can take care of him, and he doesn’t have to be alone, because his mum and dad are still here. Anders is the best dad ever, because he shaved his head so we can grow our hair back together, because in the hospital they cut it all off. And he’s given me fish for my birthday, and a book about Vikings, and a Viking ship for Christmas. Anders is the best dad ever, and then I have Uncle Mike, and Uncle Ty and Auntie Dawn, and Auntie Michelle, and Uncle Axl and Cousin Olaf. He knows everything! I want to stay here, but I can send you more letters._

_RUSSELL_

_ps._

_Dear April,_  
_I know life hasn’t been easy for you. And I’m sorry you can’t be here to watch Russell grow up._  
_Thank you for giving him to me. I know I would never have thought so in the beginning, but he’s the best that ever happened to me. I really love him, and he has made me a better man._  
_Rest in peace, April._

_Anders_

Then he tied the sheet of paper to the string of the balloon and with a smile, offered Russell the string.

Russell smiled back before he released the balloon. Then he closed both arms around Anders’s middle and pressed his cheek into the folds of Anders’s shirt. Anders draped his arm around him, and together they watched the balloon vanish towards the horizon.

* * *

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in[ Two Volumes of one Book](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5572585/chapters/12846130)


End file.
